Risks and Rewards
by Lady Karai
Summary: The sequel to Rules. Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin. L vs. Light, nonslash.
1. Chapter 1

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Merry Christmas to all! I have to say I worked my butt off to get this ready by today. Unfortunately, I am not finished with my judging duties (94 chapters left to read), so updates will be extremely slow until I get them done. But you've all been so patient that I had to at least start the story for you today.

**Important!** This is the sequel to "Rules". If you have not read that story, I strongly suggest you do so before going any farther. I am not going to recap or explain anything from the previous story. And truly, if you don't like "Rules", then you're not going to like this one either so why bother with it?

Off we go ...

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**Chapter 1**

_Ohayou, Raito-kun_.

Never before had two words taken such complete control over Light's brain. They circled through it incessantly, forcing out all other thoughts and memories until it seemed that those six syllables comprised his entire existence. They meant so much more than their literal translation. Even with the huge gaps in understanding that Light possessed, he knew enough to know that much. In two words, Elijah had announced to Light that the binding rules of the past year had been lifted. The suffering blond had more than an unexpected third chance; he had a third chance without the burden of fear and lies. He had a chance to be himself.

_Ohayou, Raito-kun_.

Those words meant one other thing as well: answers to all of Light's questions.

Or they would have if Light could have spent even a minute alone with the older man since his awakening. Unfortunately, Julie and Rich, being the loving parents they were, had made sure that at least one of them was with Elijah at all times while he was in the hospital. The doctors wouldn't leave the poor guy alone either, although Light had to admit he understood why. Never before had they seen an "amnesiac" fall into a "coma" with a flatline EEG for no apparent reason and then snap out of it less than twenty-four hours later. The head doctor in particular looked like he wanted to ship Elijah off to some laboratory to be studied in depth, although once Julie caught on to his looks and started throwing some of her own in his direction, the man had backed off quite a bit.

Of course, Elijah could not spend the rest of his life in the hospital, and they eventually discharged him. However, to Light's increasing frustration, almost a week later he still had been unable to get the other man alone. He visited the McCormicks' house as much as his schedule would allow, but there was always someone else there, whether it was Julie going overboard on the mothering or one of their other friends hanging out to keep the blond company. Ethan was the worst offender, and Light found himself fantasizing about pulling out the Death Note and killing off the kind-hearted junior if only to get him the hell out of the house.

The questions churning in him were slowly driving him mad. What exactly had happened when Elijah had collapsed? How had he convinced the supernatural being that had revived him in the first place to give him more time? How much time did he have? Was he here to stay or did he have a deadline again? Was it true that the rules had been lifted or were there others? Had they been lifted only for Light or could he tell everyone who he had once been? If the latter was the case, would he now turn around and denounce Light as Kira or would he keep their friendship intact? There was so much Light didn't understand, from the past year and from the past week, and he wanted answers. He wanted them _right now_.

The worst part, however, was that Elijah himself had done nothing to ease Light's distress. More than once, the younger man had waited for the elder to shoo his mother out of the room so that the two friends could talk in private, but Elijah had never done so. And ever since that first afternoon when the blond had smiled at him with such relief and happiness, since then Light had not seen a flicker of emotion in the other's face. It bothered and upset him almost as much as his questions.

"Are you alright, Light?"

The soft voice snapped Light from his thoughts. He lifted his eyes to meet the quietly-blank blue ones that gazed at him from the bed. Elijah sat in a mountain of pillows, all lovingly fluffed by Julie. He had pulled up his knees to mimic his normal position, but the curled effect was looser than usual and his hands rested lightly on his thighs instead of gripping his legs. To an untrained eye, he looked the paragon of casualness.

Light knew better. "Yes, 'Lij, I'm fine," he replied to the other's question.

Elijah tipped his head a little and continued to stare. Light wanted to leap across the room and throttle him. That blank expression, those empty eyes, he hadn't seen them in months. Elijah was being so guarded around him, so damn _careful_, that Light was almost afraid. What the hell had happened while Elijah was comatose?

The quiet voice spoke again, insisting on making its point. "Because you look a little pale."

Light resisted the urge to scowl fiercely and spin the swivel chair away in disgust. Elijah knew exactly why Light looked unsettled, but he simply had to add insult to injury by making a spectacle of the younger man. Well, Light could play these idiot games as well. After all, he was a _master_ of games.

Well-honed instincts flared and took control of the brunet's body. His posture relaxed, and a bright smile spread across his face, showing an easy friendliness that was pure acting. "You?" he asked lightly. "Calling me pale? I must look like a ghost then."

Elijah smiled lopsidedly at him, a glint in his eyes that had not been there before. It was almost as if he was glad to see that spark of defiance in the other young man. He remarked, "I do hope that worry over me has not caused you to fall ill. If so, I will not be offended if you stop visiting me."

Internally, Light roared in rage. How _dare_ he? His smile, however, only widened, and he waved a hand in lazy dismissal. "Don't be silly. I'm fine. And if I do stop visiting, I'd only worry _more_."

"So you admit you are worrying about me."

"A bit, sure. You're my friend after all. Unless nearly dying suddenly negates all we've built over the last year."

A gentle smile spread over Elijah's lips. "Of course not," he replied, his words carrying far more weight than his tone.

Sitting on the end of the bed, Ethan chuckled at their exchange, completely missing the hidden meanings in their words. He and the others had been far too relieved that Elijah had not died to notice the tension between the once-close young men. Even Julie, with her uncanny ability to read her son's emotions, had not noticed. Light supposed it must be a testament to how well they had once hidden themselves from each other that no one could see the horrible distance that had grown between them overnight.

After a few minutes of silence where brown eyes glared darkly into impassive blue ones, Ethan rose to his feet and stretched out his back. "Well, 'Lij," he commented, "I'm going to have to go now. I have a class in thirty minutes." Turning to the brunet in the swivel chair, he asked, "You want to come, Light, or do you want to stay here with Elijah?"

The implication of Ethan's words slammed into Light and instantly disintegrated all of his anger and resentment. Ethan was leaving. No one else was there at the moment. Rich was at work, and Julie was busy in her study. He could finally be alone with the owner of the answers to his questions, assuming he could pry those tight lips apart far enough to reach in and pull them out. Excitement gripped him so fiercely that he couldn't get his mouth open fast enough to reply.

Instead, a softer voice answered for him. "If you could stay, Light, I would very much appreciate it."

Elijah was staring at him, his expression still unreadable but his eyes full of a familiar warmth. Finally Light could see a hint of the man he had been so desperate to save. The smile that had fallen off of his face with his shock reinstated itself, but this time it was real.

"Sure, I'll hang out a bit longer. I'm done with classes for today anyway."

"All right then," Ethan replied. "See you guys later." He threw a friendly smile at both of them, turned, and walked to the open door.

As soon as the stairs creaked, signifying that the junior was descending to the first floor, Light leapt from his chair. He ran to the door, shut it, and flicked the lock the second it had closed. Spinning on his heel, he stared at Elijah through a mess of brown bangs that had fallen into his eyes.

"All right, you," he near-panted. "Talk."

The blond blinked at him. "Talk about what?" he asked innocently. Then, one corner of his mouth lifted in a sly smirk and he added, "Raito-kun."

Light positively snarled.

The violent sound of frustration broke through Elijah's fake indifference. He began to laugh quietly, dipping his chin into his drawn-up knees. After a tense moment during which Light debated between laughing with him or attacking him, the blond lifted a hand and beckoned to Light in a silent invitation. As Light moved to comply, Elijah caught his breath and asked, "How do you want to do this?"

"What do you mean?" Light asked back, settling himself comfortably on the end of the bed.

"Do you want to ask questions and have me answer, or do you want me to just start from the beginning and talk until my voice gives out?"

Excitement surged through Light again, but he quelled it in order to consider the question. "The second," he finally replied. "I have so many questions that if I just start asking them, we're both bound to get confused."

Elijah nodded, satisfied with this, and began, "Then I'll start at the beginning. Or rather the end. When I died." He paused, then amended with a smirk, "I mean, when you _killed_ me."

Light shrank back in spite of himself, and the defenses poured forth before he could stop them. "I didn't kill you. Rem did."

"After you backed her into a corner."

"You were my enemy. You stood in my way!"

"We had just caught Kira."

"But you still suspected me, and I knew the 13-day rule wouldn't hold you back for long."

"No, it wouldn't have, and I was right in suspecting you."

"Which is why I had to get rid of you!"

"Do you regret it?"

The question hit Light like a slap across the face. He stared into Elijah's calm eyes, at his expressionless face, at his strange appearance. At everything that had convinced Light from the first moment they saw one another that Elijah was really L. But he had hated L down to the last cell of his body. Elijah he could never hate. Just the opposite. While sitting at the blond's bedside, watching the miracle of his eyes opening once more, Light had realized just how much he loved Elijah. They were more than friends; they were family. Light could easily see himself doing just about anything to help the other man.

That soft voice that he had feared he would never hear again cut into his thoughts. "Don't answer that." Elijah was smiling at him, a hint of sadness in his expression. "The fact that you're bothering to argue with me tells me the answer." He looked away for a moment, allowing Light to banish the awkwardness from his face. When he turned back, Light had recovered his usual composure.

"So, returning to task, I died and woke up in Heaven." A thumb lifted to Elijah's lip and began to poke at it idly. "I woke up on a bed, of all things, in a long hall with soul monitors traveling up and down. As soon as one noticed I was awake, he ushered me off the bed and into an adjoining room. This one was sort of like customs. The female soul who helped me asked for my name and other personal information, and then she found my destination in this large book. I didn't need to do any penance in Purgatory, so she called for yet another soul to escort me to my room."

"Your room?" Light asked. "Souls get individual rooms?"

"Souls get nothing but individual rooms," Elijah replied, flicking his eyes over for a moment before letting them drift away again. "You are allowed to request to visit other souls' rooms, but they are also allowed to deny you access. Imagine what a mess it would be otherwise. Famous people would get no rest whatsoever. They'd be mobbed by adoring fans for all of eternity."

"That makes sense, I suppose."

"Heaven makes a world of sense," the other remarked knowingly. "Everything is fast, efficient, and runs like clockwork. After all, they've had quite a while to perfect their system."

Light smiled at the joke, but it faded when he realized that Elijah was serious. Noticing intense blue eyes on him, he nodded to indicate that the other should continue.

"I quickly learned all there was to know about my room. It's a very nice set-up if you know how to use it properly. With a bit of imagination and a little will, you can turn your room into just about any location you would like. A house, a park, a boat on the ocean, a castle out of a fairy tale. Anything. I wasn't interested in that aspect as much as the fact that all of Heaven's knowledge was available to anyone who wished to learn it. A giant database, if you will, containing the entirety of history as well as everything to do with all branches of science. So I turned my room into something resembling investigation headquarters and dove into the knowledge of the universe via my laptop."

"I'm surprised your brain didn't explode."

Elijah spared Light a half-hearted glare, but a moment later, he turned to the younger man with an expression of pure awe. "Raito-kun," he whispered, "Heaven has cameras _everywhere_."

Light couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. He could just picture it: L's newly-arrived soul, staring bug-eyed at all the cameras available to him, practically drooling at the implications of it. It had probably been the closest thing to an orgasm that the skinny ex-detective had ever experienced.

Elijah waited patiently for the brunet's laughter to die down before commenting, "That's how I found out all about you, Light. From the moment you received the Death Note, through all the traps and tricks you played, right up to my death and then beyond."

The laughter died in Light's throat. So, L knew everything. How he had found the Death Note, all his conversations with Ryuk, how he had ensnared Raye Penber, the death of Raye's fiancée Naomi, the trick with the bag of chips, Misa, and the great plan that would clear them both. L knew. No, _Elijah_ knew, and that was what made Light feel suddenly uncomfortable. He had never regretted a single one of his moves, but knowing that Elijah knew made Light feel slightly ashamed. Like being caught doing something inappropriate or vaguely obscene. He didn't like the thought that Elijah would disapprove of him or of the things he had done.

Shaking these thoughts from his head, Light questioned, "So what prompted you to leave this amazing situation?"

Elijah shrugged. "I wasn't happy," he replied evenly.

"Not happy?" Light echoed, incredulous. "With all that information and video footage as well? You weren't happy?"

The blond shrugged again, clearly uninterested in delving too far into his feelings. "I was basically spending my afterlife in the same way that I had spent my life, and I wasn't happy then so why would I be happy now?"

Light opened his mouth to respond and found that he had nothing to say. Stunned, he shut his mouth, swallowed, and waited for the other man to continue.

"All souls have a higher-level soul monitoring them, so when mine asked if I was happy, I told the truth and said I wasn't. That's when he -- or she, it's impossible to tell with the high ones -- offered me the one-year deal. Get sent back to Life for one year in order to search for what it was that you missed the first time around. But I would have to follow very strict rules, which are there basically to ensure that souls don't go flying back down to earth just because they miss someone or because they want to finish something they started. I, of course, would have loved to have finished the Kira case and sent you to prison, but that wasn't the cause of my restlessness. I felt like something else was missing from my heart."

"A family," Light murmured.

Elijah dropped his hand and lifted his head, facing Light full-on for the first time since he had begun speaking. His blue eyes gazed carefully into Light's brown ones, searching. Several silent heartbeats passed before Elijah replied, "I suppose so."

Light blinked. "You suppose?" When Elijah looked away and refused to respond, he decided to just let it go. Drawing in a quick breath, he asked to change the subject, "So these rules of yours that gave me such a headache last year, are you allowed to tell me them now?"

A small smile spread over the other man's face again. "Yes," he replied, "although you essentially guessed them yourself. I was not allowed to tell anyone who I used to be or participate in the Kira case. If I had, I would have forfeited the deal and returned to Heaven immediately. The rules did have that loophole, however, that I could simply refuse to answer your questions which allowed you to draw the correct conclusions. Eventually." The hint of a smirk danced through his eyes, but Light chose to ignore the dig.

"And what about now?" he asked, hiding his eagerness to know the answer. "How did you get another chance and how long is it?"

For a long moment, Elijah did not respond, but then he said in an even tone, "I have another year, and to get it, I made another deal." The thumb was back on his lip, and he began to chew on the nail as he added, "I negotiated this deal a bit more and won the ability to talk to you freely about everything, but only you."

Light allowed himself a brief moment of pride at that revelation, but he quickly pushed past it. Elijah had shut himself away again, hiding his thoughts behind a carefully blank expression. Apprehension began to tingle at the back of Light's neck, and it slowly sank down the length of his spine.

"What was the deal?" he heard himself ask.

Another pause stretched between them before Elijah replied, "It's not exactly a deal. It's a mission. If I accomplish the task given me before the year ends, then I will be allowed to stay here as Elijah McCormick and live out a second life with a natural lifespan. If I don't, I will go back at the end of the year, and this time I will not return."

"What's the mission?" Light asked, feeling his nervousness grow at the unchanging emptiness in the other's face. "If there's any way that I can help you, I will." The words rolled off his tongue without thought. He meant them; he truly did. But he had this terrible feeling that he would regret saying them.

Elijah met Light's eyes and held them with a strong, serious gaze. Light felt his heart sink even before the first words left the other's mouth.

"I am to kill Kira."

Neither spoke for a solid five minutes. They simply sat there, looking at each other. Light's mind was awhirl, but he felt as if he were accessing it through a thick wall of glass. He could see the thoughts tumbling madly over one another, but he could not feel them, could not feel the emotions they kindled. The only real thing in his world at that moment was Elijah. Elijah and his empty eyes, his guarded face, his quiet voice and the words of doom that it had spoken.

Finally, after a seeming eternity, Light's throat remembered how to function. "Kill me?" he whispered.

That same sad smile reappeared. "That's what I thought at first as well," the other said, "and at first I refused. But Heaven's keepers do not desire your death, Light. All they want is the end of Kira. Killing you would accomplish this, but so would something else."

Pieces were falling into place within Light's head. So much of Elijah's recent behavior now made sense. Understanding, however, brought with it pain and darkness. "You want me to give up the Death Note," he stated. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Don't you?"

"Yes."

The answer -- quiet, but firm -- shocked Light like nothing he had ever experienced. Without realizing his own actions, he stood from the bed and gazed down at his best friend. He could feel his expression turning hard and cold, and he could do nothing to stop it.

"Well," he remarked in a voice that sounded alien to his own ears, "at least you'll have an extra year to cross a few more things off your list."

And he turned on his heel and left the room. Calmly, he walked down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door. Steadily, he walked down the front path, turned at the sidewalk, and headed towards campus. Carefully, he side-stepped the few people walking along the same road, keeping his eyes on his feet as they made firm, even steps on the concrete.

The nausea hit him two blocks from his dorm. Staggering, he hit a streetlamp and leaned heavily against it, one hand clamped over his mouth as he breathed through his nose. His mind was screaming, pounding against his temples in a monstrous headache, and his hands and knees were shaking. It was taking all of his concentration not to empty his stomach into the street.

How had this happened? When Elijah had "died", he had been so sure that he would give anything to have his best friend back. He had known in his heart that he would gladly give the other man any amount of help he needed to stay. Hadn't he just said to Elijah that he would help? Hadn't he just promised to do anything he could? But _this_ … no, he couldn't do this. He would give Elijah money, time, support, anything up to and including his own arm or leg if it would help. But to give him Light's future, his dreams for a better world ... even Elijah's life wasn't worth that. All of Light's hard work, all of the lives sacrificed to make way for the new tomorrow, he would not throw that away for anything. Not even to give L another chance or to give Light the greatest friendship of his life.

The Death Note was more than just the means to kill without dirtying one's hands. It was the tool to bring about a world without crime. The way to give all innocent people the happy and full lives they deserved. Light was fighting, not for his future, but for the future of all good people everywhere. The hopes of the world rested on his shoulders. If he buckled from mere personal pressures, he would fail all of them. The greater good must be considered before one's personal well-being. He had known that the moment he set out on this journey, and he would not forget. Not now. Not ever.

Slowly, the illness passed from Light's body. Breathing became easier as his resolve hardened. Eventually, his hand fell from his face and he straightened. Hard eyes stared ahead with purpose as feet began to move once more. Light walked away from the streetlamp and continued on his way to his room.

Kira had returned.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Ack, sorry this is so late. I got sick there for awhile, and the kids did, too. I'll try to do better for the next one. Thanks so much to the reviewers! I don't think I've ever gotten so many for the first chapter before. I'm truly grateful.

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**Chapter 2**

Long after the front door had closed and quiet spread through the house, Elijah sat on the bed and stared at his knees. Light had reacted exactly as he had predicted. Shock, refusal, anger. He had even lashed out with a verbal blow in an attempt to shake the pain from his own shoulders and dump it onto someone else's. Just as Elijah had expected him to do. So why? Why if the encounter had essentially gone according to Elijah's script, why did it still hurt so very much?

The blond shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against his legs. Something in his chest burned and stung. Something unfamiliar. Ever since coming to live with Julie and Rich, he had been experiencing new and surprising emotions, but this one he didn't like. This was more than simple sadness or regret. This _hurt_.

_Maybe I shouldn't have told him_. But even before the thought finished crossing his mind, he was shaking his head. He had decided almost immediately upon returning that he would tell Light everything. Light's intelligence and suspicious nature would never allow Elijah to attempt his mission unchecked. The very first time the older man spoke of Kira, the younger would jump on him with questions. He could try to lie, but Light would see through it, and then when the truth finally did come out, Light would accuse him of tricks and betrayal. So Light had to know up front what Elijah's intentions were; it simply wouldn't work any other way.

But now …

Elijah suddenly threw his legs over the side of the bed and rose to his feet. With a speed that would have surprised anyone who knew him, he left his room and headed downstairs. He needed sugar. Lots of sugar. Enough to drown this pain and make everything normal again.

Once in the kitchen, he went straight for the cookie jar. Comfort lay within it; he was certain of that. Julie was the kind of woman who liked having cookies in the cookie jar, even if they were store-bought. Ever since Elijah had taken up residence under her roof, the little ceramic container had never been empty once.

Eyes shining, Elijah plucked the lid off of the jar and peered inside. He considered his options for a moment, even going so far as to open a cupboard for a plate, but then he decided that a situation like this one required drastic measures. Nodding to himself, he shut the cupboard door and lifted the entire jar off of the counter instead. With prize in hand, he walked into the living room, flipped on the TV to a news channel, and collapsed onto the couch to lose himself in peanut butter and chocolate chips.

He had barely started on his first cookie, however, when his mother's voice cut through the drone of the newscaster.

"Elijah?" She stood in the doorway to her office, gazing at him with a confused expression. "Where's Light?"

"Went home," he answered shortly. He reached into the jar and pulled out another cookie even as he finished chewing the first one.

"That's odd. Usually he comes to say goodbye to me before he goes." Her eyes drifted to the closed front door before coming back to rest on him again. "Is everything all right?"

Elijah only shrugged, refusing to meet her searching gaze. When he heard her sigh in affectionate exasperation, he concluded that she had finally noticed the jar in his lap. He quickly shoved two more cookies into his mouth as she crossed to his side. A moment later, her hands came into his line of sight, silently requesting the object he had stolen.

Normally, Elijah would have given it to her without a fight; it was a little game they played where he tried to overdose on sweets and she always stopped him. But today he wasn't playing. He had absolutely no intention of giving the cookie jar back. The second her hands appeared, he curled up protectively around the jar, pushing it into his chest with so much force that it hurt a bit. He paid no attention to the little gasp that left his mother's mouth or the step back that she took. He didn't care if he had shocked or worried her, didn't care that he probably looked like a two-year-old. No one was going to take those cookies away from him.

After a long silent pause where neither of them moved, Julie walked around to Elijah's other side and sat down on the couch next to him. Wordlessly, she held out a hand again, but this time it was not a motherly order as much as a friendly request. Elijah stared at her small fingers for a moment before understanding. Carefully, he uncurled himself, reached into the jar, extracted a cookie, and placed it into her hand. Julie brought it to her mouth and began crunching on it, never once looking at him. Elijah searched her face in the hopes of discerning her thoughts, but she kept her expression blank.

"So," she said once half of her cookie was gone, "you and Light had a fight."

Elijah blinked and turned away. Internally, he berated himself for being surprised. Of course Julie would be able to figure out what had happened on her own. She was _Julie_.

As he retrieved another cookie for himself and began to eat it, she continued to herself, "Guess the honeymoon is over for you two."

Elijah inhaled sharply, bringing a dust cloud of cookie crumbs into his lungs. "_Mother!_" he managed to cough out after a minute. "Light and I are _not_ in a relationship!"

Finally, she turned to him, and the beginnings of a smile crept into her lips. "Of course you are," she replied. "You're friends with him, aren't you? That's a relationship."

"Fine," he conceded, wiping the tears from his coughing fit from his eyes, "but I don't see how the concept of a honeymoon applies to me and Light."

"It just means you've had your first big fight," she reassured him, her smile growing. She reached across him and into the jar for another cookie as she continued, "You're close enough friends now that you're not dancing around each other, trying to make sure the other doesn't get upset. You don't have to wear those kinds of masks around each other now. You can be yourselves and trust that the other person won't judge you or abandon you." She chewed for a moment and swallowed before remarking, "It's actually a very large step in any relationship: the first big fight. In particular, how you handle it can dictate how the relationship evolves from this point."

Elijah dropped his gaze into the interior of the cookie jar and swallowed nervously. How to handle it? What a terrifying responsibility! All these emotions and social interactions were so new and foreign to him. He had no idea how to handle the pain scraping against his heart much less the cause behind it. And this fight between them was so much more than a simple disagreement over trivial matters. How could he possibly know how to resolve this broken situation with Light in the proper way?

"How should I handle it, Mom?" he asked quietly.

To his disappointment and despair, she laughed. "I can't tell you! Even if I knew what you two fought about, I still wouldn't be able to tell you." She reached out a hand and placed it gently on his shoulder before continuing, "Everyone and every situation is different. I could give you advice, but there's no guarantee that it wouldn't backfire. You understand that, right?"

He nodded glumly and hunched his shoulders a little more. The cookies suddenly didn't seem as appetizing as before. The sharp pain in his chest had transformed into a hollow ache that had spread outwards through his entire body. He felt like he was sinking into it, drowning in it, and no amount of sugar would ever be able to pull him back out again.

The hand on his shoulder moved, and before Elijah realized what was happening, Julie had grasped his chin and forced him to look at her. "Now hold on," she said brightly, "there's no need for that face. It's not as if the world is about to end just because you and Light had a fight." Her smile softened as she ran her eyes over his face. "It's okay to make mistakes, you know," she told him. "It's the way you learn. And learning how to fight and how to make up is very important, in any relationship."

"How to fight," he echoed quietly. "I thought …" He lifted his eyes to hers and stared at her in confusion. "I thought successful couples don't fight."

"Sure they do," she laughed, finally releasing his chin. "No two people who are even remotely close to each other can go through life without fighting once in a while."

"But you and Rich don't fight."

"Oh yes we do. We just do it when you're not around." She winked at him playfully. Then, more seriously she continued, "We've also had enough practice that we can fight while staying civil to each other. Without shouting or flying off the handle. It takes a lot of practice, though." She leaned back against the couch and let her eyes wander off, remembering. "When we were first married, we used to fight for hours. And I mean _hours_. Yelling at each other, accusing, threatening. We even threw the 'D' word around more than once."

Elijah stared at his mother, stunned. He couldn't believe that she and his father had once done such things, that they had even spoken of divorce. Knowing them as he did, knowing how happy they were together now, it just didn't seem possible.

Julie noticed his expression and smiled at him. "You want to know why we're still together?" When he nodded, she explained, "Because we held on. When we weren't fighting, we realized that what we had was something worth keeping, so we grabbed onto it and held on. If one of us let go, the other would just hold on tighter. It didn't matter how many storms hit us; at the end of it, we always came out together. Eventually, we grew and matured, as individuals and as a couple, and we learned how to fight and how to make up. And twenty years later, here we are."

Quiet descended, and Elijah let it fall. Once again Julie had shown him just how flat and lifeless his previous way of thinking had been. Before, to him a fight had been a battle. At the end of it, someone would win and the other would lose, and his personality drove him to be the victor each time. Light was the same. But Julie had learned how to look at a fight as means for improvement. In her scenario, both could win. And while Light and L had continued to clash until their relationship was brittle, Julie and Rich had strengthened and deepened their bond until fighting was no longer necessary. From that viewpoint, Elijah realized, neither he nor Light had ever won a true victory. They had both lost from the very beginning.

"So," his mother's voice interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present, "I guess I can give you some advice after all."

"Hold on," he said for her. "And don't let go."

She smiled gently at him, pleased. "That's right. Of course, that's assuming your friendship with Light is important enough to keep."

"It is," he assured her, smiling back. "I know that much."

Chuckling softly, she reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. Elijah leaned into her touch, suddenly wanting her warmth. The empty ache in his chest had disappeared; once again she had comforted him with an ease and grace that his sugar habit could never provide. Acting on an instinct that he found himself more and more willing to follow, he moved the cookie jar to an end table and gathered his mother up in his arms. He found to his surprise and delight that she fit just perfectly against him, her head resting on his shoulder and tucked beneath his chin.

"Thank you, Mom," he whispered after a moment.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she replied in an equal tone. She lifted her head just long enough to kiss his cheek before settling down again.

Elijah paused. His mother had been giving him kisses practically since he had moved in, and over time he had grown accustomed to them enough to receive them without flinching. But before this moment, he had never even considered giving one back. He had never wanted to kiss anyone before. Even when he had kissed Annie, he had only wanted to kiss someone, not her in particular, and that had only been so that he could cross it off his list. The act of kissing just had never seemed appealing or necessary.

But this time when Julie kissed him, he had felt a little tremor of warmth pass through him, and a strange yearning feeling had begun to hover around his mouth. He didn't understand it; it didn't make sense. Yet, when he thought about it, none of the physical contact desires and instincts he had been having lately made any sense, but when he gave into them, he didn't regret them. With anyone else, perhaps he would have, but not with Julie. Never with her.

Hesitantly, Elijah leaned down and pressed his lips against the top of his mother's head. The action inexplicably sent a pleasant flutter through his chest which only intensified when he heard her little gasp of happy surprise. Instead of pulling away when he had finished, he turned his head and placed his cheek on the spot that he had kissed. It made absolutely no sense, but he could feel the kiss against his own face. It was complete and utter nonsense, but that didn't change the fact that it was and that it felt wonderful.

Tightening his arms around his mother, Elijah decided that he would make up with Light tomorrow. For now, he would simply enjoy the presence of the amazing woman who had allowed him to be her son.

xXx

He had barely finished the ninth judgment of the evening, the black ink still glistening slightly in the light from his desk lamp, when someone knocked at his door. Annoyed at the interruption, he considered just ignoring it, but his visitor seemed to have read his mind.

"Open up, Light! I know you're in there. The guy across the hall said he saw you go in and hasn't seen you come out."

Light grimaced in annoyance. Annie. Angry by the sound of it. Grumbling to himself, he closed the Death Note and slid it into one of his desk drawers. It wasn't exactly the safest place, but he truly doubted Annie would go rooting around through his things. And if she did, he could always kill her.

After closing down his browser windows and double checking that the desk drawer was shut, Light approached the door and opened it. The deathglare that pierced him would have made a lesser man cower.

"You missed dinner at Julie's," she stated as way of a greeting. "Again."

His trademark smile slipped onto his face without a second's hesitation. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, but I've been really busy."

"Bullshit," she answered. Her eyes flickered over his form which was still blocking the doorway. "Move."

"What?"

"Move. I'm coming in."

Repressing a resigned sigh, Light stepped aside and allowed the irate blonde to push by. She stomped to the center of his small room and turned on him dramatically while he shut the door and leaned against it, waiting for the performance.

"Why are you avoiding Elijah?" she demanded, jumping right to the heart of the matter.

Light swallowed another sigh and the urge to roll his eyes. He had absolutely no intention of discussing this with Annie. "I'm not --"

"Don't you _dare_ try to lie to me!" she interrupted with shocking force. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

Light blinked at her and held his tongue. Telling her that if he thought she was stupid, he wouldn't bother hanging out with her was probably not the best of ideas at the moment. Nor was warning that her current behavior was reducing his opinion of her more and more every second.

"Elijah has been trying to contact you for two _weeks_," she told him as if he didn't already know. "Two weeks, and you won't pick up the phone for him or answer his emails or visit him at the house." She paused a minute to huff menacingly, a perfect picture of female indignation. "I don't know what you two fought about, but enough is enough."

"Annie, it is none of your business," he informed her coldly.

She sneered at him, unfazed. "If you weren't acting like a three-year-old, I would agree with you. But after two weeks of watching one dear friend wear himself out and worry himself to death trying to make up with another friend who insists on being an asshole, at that point I think I'm justified in butting in."

A sudden pang of guilt lanced through Light. Images that he had refused to see flooded his mind. Images of Elijah hanging up the phone in disappointment after yet again being sent to voice mail. Of him sitting by the window, watching the people pass by and looking in vain for one person in particular. Of that familiar face growing more tired and more despondent by the day. Light had banished those thoughts from him, using all of his mental strength and resolve to keep them away, but Annie's words had brought them crashing back again.

Light dropped his eyes and regarded the floor with interest. They were back to square one, the two of them. Back to right after Halloween when Light declared war and announced that L and Kira could never be friends. They had worked so well before because Elijah had made it clear that he had no interest in Kira, that he wasn't _allowed_ to have an interest in Kira. But that had all changed, and Light didn't know what to do other than avoid Elijah entirely.

Slowly, Light began to realize that the fiery female in his presence had been silent for a rather long time. He raised his eyes to see her staring, wide-eyed, at his desk. For one brief moment of panic, he thought perhaps he had not in fact closed his drawer all the way, but he quickly understood the cause of her surprise when she strode over and snatched a single piece of paper from the top.

"What is this?" she demanded, holding it out for him to see.

"It's what it says it is," he answered in a bored tone. "An application for summer housing on campus."

The look Annie gave him could have sliced through steel. "Julie has your room ready," she stated in a terrifyingly even voice. "She and Rich even bought you a bed."

Light shrugged and looked away. "That's not my problem. I didn't ask them to --"

The _slap_ that occurred from Annie's hand colliding with Light's face filled the room and bounced off the walls. He stood there in absolute shock, his cheek stinging, his neck aching from the force of having his head thrown sideways. His brain had completely shut down. He had just been slapped. By a girl. He, Light Yagami, had been slapped by a bubbly blonde girl whose head only came up to his nose.

"You … are … an absolute … IDIOT!" she screamed.

Idiot. He had just been slapped and called an idiot. By a girl.

"One fight and you're willing to cut 'Lij off entirely? I thought you were best friends! Does he mean _nothing_ to you? Do you even know what it means to be friends with someone? Are you really that socially retarded? He wants to make up with you! He's trying his damnedest to make up with you, and you won't even give him a _chance_? Are you really that much of a perfectionist that if someone makes a mistake, if God forbid someone is actually _human_, you just discard them? _Are you, Light?_"

Stunned, Light lifted a hand and gently touched his still-burning cheek. It hurt, but not as much as Annie's words did. She didn't understand, of course, that this "fight" of theirs wasn't just a normal falling out between friends, but that didn't stop her accusations from reaching his heart. He thought he had barricaded it off from the world, but she had found it anyway. And now it ached with the truth of what she had said and the guilt of what he had done to Elijah.

After a silent moment, Light raised his eyes to look at her and found her crying. He swallowed hard. He had been slapped and called an idiot by a sweet, bubbly blonde who was now crying for him.

"Annie …" he whispered.

"Shut up," she cut him off, tears flowing down her face. "I don't want to hear it." Furiously, she lifted a hand and rubbed some of the tears away before saying, "Tomorrow we're taking 'Lij to the girls' softball game so he can attend a sporting event. For his list, you know. It's at three o'clock." She narrowed glimmering blue eyes at him. "Be there or I'll kick your ass."

For a second, Light considered refusing, but he eventually heard himself reply, "Fine. I'll be there."

"Good," Annie said, and she pushed past him, threw open his door, and strode down the hallway without another word.

Light watched her go from his doorway, then returned to his room and shut the door. It was strange, he thought as he sank into his chair. Friends had never been important to him. As far as status and appearances went, he had to have them because without them he couldn't be popular. But before Elijah and Ethan, no guy had ever been intelligent enough to hold his interest, and even now no girl had stirred any feelings in him. People around you, your so-called friends, were meant to be used, to be stepped on to propel yourself even higher. And yet, these past two weeks without Elijah, he had felt an emptiness in his chest that he had never felt before, and as Annie walked away from him, he had felt a strange desire to reach out to her and ask her to stay.

It was strange. He didn't understand.

He didn't like this feeling. This feeling of being lonely. Of being alone. It seemed that Annie had done much more than slap him, call him an idiot, and cry. She had shaken something loose within him that had never even budged before.

She had done something else as well. Deciding to go back to his judgments, Light finally noticed a conspicuous empty place on his desk. When he realized what had sat there, he touched the wood with his fingers and smiled. Annie had taken his housing application along with her.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Well, this chapter got way too long, so I'm splitting off Light's half and turning it into the next chapter. In case you were wondering, yes the two new girls in this chapter are UFC #1 and #2. (Kim isn't new; she was the reason for the "Women Suck" party, if you remember.)

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"So, you think you understand all the rules?"

Elijah twisted his head slightly to look at a grinning Mark as the younger man walked alongside him. Even though the question was an innocent one, he couldn't help but think of bright white light and a voice that resonated with his very bones. So much in his new life seemed to depend on competition and rules. Idly, Elijah wondered if his soul monitor had ever attended a girls' softball game. If so, he or she had probably wagered on the outcome.

"I believe I spent an adequate amount of time researching them last night," he replied to Mark.

"Oh, okay. Well, if you have any questions, feel free to ask me."

"I will."

Nodding happily, Mark turned his attention back to the road in front of them. The sophomore had a definite bounce in his step this afternoon, and he was still grinning. Elijah hid his own small smile. When Mark had loudly pointed out the "never attended a sporting event" line on one of the sheets of his list, Elijah had briefly considered letting the others know that he had written no such thing. Instead he had accepted Mark's addition as if it had been his own idea, and now he was very glad he had. He had never before seen those brown eyes sparkle quite so brightly.

"Of course, I really wanted to take you to a professional game, you know," Mark continued to chatter. "It's so much cooler than a little game like this one will be. All the people cheering together. The noise they all make, plus the noise and music that comes from the speakers. It's awesome! So loud you can't hear yourself think. And if it's a night game, there's all the lights, too."

From Elijah's other side, Ethan began to laugh. "Mark, do you realize you just described pretty much everything that 'Lij hates?" He lifted a hand and ticked them off on his fingers. "Crowds. Noise. Bright lights. Oh, and you forgot greasy food and drunks."

Mark scowled briefly at his friend, but he quickly regained his good mood. "Anyway, our team is pretty good this year, so it should be a good game." He paused for a moment, then added, "And it's always fun to watch girls with trim bodies run around and get dirty and sweaty, even if their chests are kinda flat."

Elijah lifted a shocked eyebrow at him as Ethan snorted. "You are damn lucky your girlfriend isn't around to hear you say that," the junior stated. When Mark just flashed a grin at him, he asked, "Where is she anyway? I thought she was coming with us to the game."

"She's coming," Mark answered with a shrug. "She said she had to meet up with someone first. Wouldn't tell me who."

"Ah, up to something secret then. Should we be scared?"

"Probably."

Elijah smiled and let the conversation flow over his head for the remainder of the walk to the ballfield. It felt good to be out with his friends. Their cheerful attitudes and simple chatter soothed his tired nerves. Trying to break through Light's stubbornness had taken a lot of energy from him, and he had yet to succeed. He would not give up, though, and not just because his new life depended on it. He would hold on because he truly wanted to do so.

The three friends continued to walk, and eventually the ballfield and the bleachers came into view. Once they were in sight, Elijah cast his eyes about for Annie. He found no sign of the small blonde, but he did notice two other girls sitting in the row closest to the ground, one of whom he recognized. This girl had her head up, looking about as well, and when she spotted the three of them, she raised a hand and waved.

"Ethan! Over here!"

Ethan smiled and lifted his own hand in a return gesture, but when he took a step towards her, he found himself stopped by Mark's tight grip on his arm.

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa!" the other young man said in a frantic whisper. "That's your ex, man. Your _ex_!"

Ethan sighed at his friend's pretend panic. "I told you," he replied patiently, "Kim and I parted on good terms, and we're still friends. Now let go."

"But," Mark insisted, only half-jokingly, "she's the enemy!"

Rolling his eyes, Ethan ripped his arm from Mark's grasp and walked away. The sophomore hissed after him a few times in an attempt to get him to stop, but he finally plodded along after him, shaking his head as if mourning the other man. Elijah watched the entire scene in mild confusion. He had only met Kim twice, but she had seemed harmless enough. Mark's behavior made no sense to him whatsoever, although he had to admit he had very little experience in relationships and none at all in romantic ones. Tipping his head to the side as he considered all of this, Elijah slowly followed after the other two.

"Thanks so much for saving seats for us," Ethan was saying as he approached.

"You're welcome," Kim smiled at him, showing off a pair of dimples. "We thought about getting the ones higher up so we could see better, but then Lily pointed out that because of the way Elijah sits, he might feel more comfortable being lower." She tilted her head to indicated the second girl sitting next to her.

Elijah blinked in surprise at this and regarded the new girl. She was small, smaller than Annie, and Asian in descent. Her deep black hair was cut in a bob, ending at the bottom of her ears, and her features, while not ugly by any means, were also not particularly striking. Sitting next to Kim with her long chestnut hair, curvy body, and dimpled smile, Lily was, simply put, average. Even so, Elijah knew he had never met her before and was therefore confused as to how a complete stranger could know his habits.

This information did not shock Ethan, however, and he laughed lightly. "That's our Lily," he said, reaching down to ruffle her hair. "Always observant."

Lily said nothing, but she offered Ethan a small smile as she smoothed her hair back down.

Ethan had turned back to Elijah and was now beginning introductions. "'Lij, you remember Kim, right?" When Elijah inclined his head in confirmation, the other man continued, "This is Lily, Kim's friend. She's wanted to meet you for a while, so I suggested we all sit together to watch the game."

"We always come to cheer Charlie on," Kim explained. "She wants to meet you, too, but we'll have to wait until the game is over to introduce you."

Elijah blinked, confused yet again. "Charlie?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ethan replied easily. He took Elijah by the shoulder and spun him around so that they faced the field. The girls from both teams were out warming up, throwing balls back and forth or running short distances. Ethan pointed over to an area where more than half a dozen girls stretched. "That one with the dirty-blonde hair in a ponytail."

"Unfortunately, that describes all of the girls I'm currently looking at."

"Oh. Well, she's one of them." Behind them, Mark snorted; Ethan ignored him. "She's usually third to bat, so we'll point her out then. Anyway, sit down." He spun Elijah around again and began pushing him towards the seat next to Lily.

"Ethan," Mark's suddenly serious voice stopped them. "Wait."

Ethan looked up in confusion, but then his gaze followed where Mark's had gone and his face hardened. "Well now," he said after a moment, "that's unexpected."

Concerned, Elijah looked around for the cause of his friends' change in behavior and finally found it. Annie had arrived, and behind her, looking rather annoyed at being pulled by the wrist like some small child, was Light. Still several paces away, Light lifted his head and spotted the three of them. Immediately, he dug in his heels and stopped, ignoring Annie's continued pulls on his wrist for him to keep going.

"Oh, Light is here!" Kim cried, unaware of the tension hovering among them. "I didn't know he was coming."

"We didn't either," Ethan replied in a low tone. He kept his eyes fixed on the other brunet and unconsciously moved a little closer to Elijah. Mark moved up on Elijah's other side, equally somber.

Kim's eyes glanced between the two groups. After a quiet moment, she asked, "Did … did something happen?"

"Light's kind of in the doghouse right now," Mark answered, trying to smile at her and failing. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

Elijah had finally finished being surprised and had moved on to flabbergasted. He had certainly not expected to see Light this afternoon, but at the moment, Ethan and Mark were acting far more strangely in his opinion. Whether they had meant to or not, the two had essentially flanked Elijah, as if shielding him. Their twin gazes drilled into Light, daring him to make a move. Annie's face held a similar expression, the hand not holding onto Light sitting on her hip. Their universal disapproval positively thrummed in the air.

Even though he truly appreciated the support that surrounded him, all of Elijah's thoughts gravitated to Light. The young man was not responding well to the silent attack from all sides. His eyes had narrowed, his back had straightened, and defiance was rolling off of him in waves. Perhaps, Elijah thought, his friends were trying to shame Light into an apology. Perhaps they merely wanted to protect him from what they saw as someone trying to hurt him. Whatever their motives, conscious or not, it was only serving to make the situation worse.

As he stepped forward, Elijah thought to himself with a smile that, while he may not understand everything about social interactions and relationships, he did understand Light.

Annie watched him carefully as he approached, and he could feel two sets of eyes on his back as well. He ignored all of them and instead concentrated on Light and the wary expression on his face, flickering back and forth between the desires to escape and to fight to the death.

"Hello, Light," he said when he was within speaking distance. "I didn't expect to see you here, but I'm glad you came." Light just stared at him, uncertain, so Elijah widened his small smile and continued. "You're just in time. We got here only a few minutes ago. Kim and her friend Lily saved us seats." He reached out and took Light's hand, turning and pulling him along before the other could react. "You remember Kim, correct? She and Ethan have apparently remained good friends in spite of Mark's objections."

The others parted before him as he continued to lead Light to the bleachers. Once they reached Lily, he stopped and finally looked back over his shoulder at the younger man. Light seemed shell-shocked, unable to understand why Elijah was acting so casually towards him when everyone else seemed to want to draw and quarter him. "This is Lily," he said, continuing to ignore Light's confusion. "I only just met her myself, so I can't do a better introduction than that. Oh, and there's another friend named Charlie on the team somewhere, but if you can find her with just Ethan's guidance, then I'll be very impressed."

Light swallowed and attempted to find his voice. "Elijah …"

Elijah cut him off with a small wave of his hand and a gentle smile. Leaning his head a bit closer to the other man's, he said quietly, "This is not a good time or place to discuss things, as you well know. So for now, let's simply enjoy the game." He glanced briefly at the others before returning his attention to Light. "Don't worry," he smiled. "They'll stop being upset once they realize I'm not mad at you." And with that, he sat down next to Lily, pulled up his legs into his normal sitting position, and proceeded to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

While Light stood there in silent shock, Elijah turned his head to the girl beside him and asked, "So, how did you know I sit like this?"

She gazed at him with a small smile, also ignoring the tense atmosphere that had only just begun to evaporate. "Kim," she replied simply in a quiet voice. "She talks about you sometimes."

"I see." Elijah shifted his gaze back to the field and the girls who had begun to return to the dugouts. Next to him, Light had finally sat down, his back and head bowed and his hands dangling between his knees. Elijah could almost hear the wheels in the brunet's head turning, trying to decide how best to proceed from here. The thought made him smile around the finger that had found its way into his mouth.

Bit by bit, everyone else settled into seats and began small conversations until the game started. Once the home team had taken the field, Ethan leaned over Elijah's shoulder from behind him and pointed out the third baseman as the correct dirty-blonde ponytailed player. The cap on her head kept Elijah from getting a good look at her face, but at least he knew which number to keep an eye on. He didn't cheer, but he did applaud a bit now and then, in particular when Charlie smashed a line drive to left field that drove in two runs late in the third inning. In Elijah's opinion, Mark and Kim did enough cheering for the lot of them, even going so far as to leap up and whoop like maniacs whenever anyone hit the ball.

As the game progressed, however, Elijah found himself paying less attention to the action on the field and more to the quiet girl sitting next to him. Some time after the game had started, Lily had reached into a bag at her feet and pulled out a large pad and a pencil. She had placed the pad on her knees, turned to a blank page, and begun to draw. Art had never interested Elijah, so at first he simply ignored the little scratches and lines that the lead made on the paper. Every so often, however, his restless eyes would glance over, and as time passed, they began to linger. The scratches had begun to form a recognizable shape, one with shading and texture, becoming more and more lifelike as Lily worked. Elijah found himself watching the end of the pencil and trying to guess where it would go next, which shape it would fill out or sharpen. It was surprisingly amusing, more so than the girls whacking and chasing after balls in front of him.

"Do you like art, Elijah?"

Lily's soft voice slipped into his musings easily, without startling him in the least. He lifted his eyes to find her black ones gazing at him in polite inquiry.

"Not really," he answered truthfully. "But I've never watched it develop in front of my eyes before. It's quite fascinating to see how a mess of lines and scribbles can transform into something identifiable."

"I see," she said, turning her eyes back to her work.

"You sound disappointed," he remarked. The sad tone in her voice had been faint, but he had heard it.

She shrugged one shoulder. "I was only going to ask if you would like to see my portfolio. But if you aren't interested in art …"

Elijah crooked a half-smile at her. "Just because I'm not interested in art doesn't mean I wouldn't like to see your portfolio. I would like to see it, if you please."

Lily turned to him again and, seeing his half-smile, offered one of her own. Another dip into her bag produced a professional-looking folder. Elijah took it in his fingers and promptly turned to Light who had been listening to their conversation.

Shoving the folder at the younger man, Elijah requested, "Hold this please, will you Light? I'm afraid that with my normal manner of handling things, I may damage the contents."

Light blinked at him for a moment, his forehead creased in irritation, but he took the folder as asked and set it on his lap. With Elijah hovering over his shoulder, he opened the cover and began to slowly turn pages. Lily's samples were in a variety of mediums, both in black and white and in color, but Elijah noticed immediately that very few of them were still life pieces or nature scenes. Nearly all of them were of people, and he noticed one face again and again. Here resting in a chair. There grinning at him from the top of a tree. Over here, just the back of her, running away. And there, crouching down, ready to spring, with her softball glove on her knee.

"Lily?" Elijah turned in his seat to catch the young woman's attention. He pointed to the latest picture of the favored model facing into the wind with outstretched arms. "This person. Is this … ?"

"It's Charlie," Lily replied without looking. "She's my muse."

"I see." He began to turn back, but stopped, suddenly remembering. "Oh yes, I meant to ask before but didn't. Charlie. Is it short for Charlotte?"

"Chelsea," Lily answered, her lips quirking up slightly. "She hates it. Says it's too yuppie a name for her down and dirty upbringing." She stilled her fingers for a moment and lifted her head to gaze at the players on the field. Half to herself, she added, "That's part of the reason why she inspires me."

"You're drawing her today, I see," Elijah commented, peering down at her pencil sketch. He could see now that it was of the other girl at bat, in the act of swinging at the ball.

"Yes."

Elijah nibbled on his thumbnail for a moment; then he plucked the portfolio out of Light's hands, ignoring the other man's protests that he wasn't finished. Handing the closed folder back to Lily, he remarked, "It seems to me that most of your drawings include movement. As if you are trying to capture the flow of time in a single, still moment."

The girl's lips quirked again. "You are very observant," she replied. "But the feeling I'm trying to capture is more of the flow of life than the flow of time." Her face darkened into a small frown. "It's very difficult. I don't think I've succeeded yet."

"You've done well enough for someone like me to enjoy it," he assured her. "I know very little about art, but it seems to me that you have talent."

She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes, something he had noticed that she rarely did. "Thank you, Elijah."

"You're quite welcome." He turned back to the game, feeling oddly happy with himself.

A short time later, in between innings, Kim and Annie stood from their seats and paused in front of Lily. "We're going to the ladies' room," Kim told her. "Come with us."

As Lily silently and obediently put away her drawing materials, Mark called over her head to ask, "Why must you women always go to the restroom in packs?"

Annie playfully stuck her tongue out at him before answering, "So we can gossip about you! Duh." She and Kim laughed at his pained groan and, with Lily in tow, headed off to a nearby building.

They had barely walked out of earshot before Elijah felt a sharp dig in his ribs. Surprised, he looked over at Light who had elbowed him. The brunet had a rather cocky grin on his face.

"Planning on picking up a girlfriend this year, 'Lij?" he asked with fake nonchalance.

The older man's eyes widened in even deeper surprise. "What?"

He hadn't thought it was possible, but Light's grin grew even larger. "You were flirting with Lily."

Elijah's jaw dropped ever so slightly. "I was?" he asked. "Really?"

Light rolled his eyes at him. "Oh, come on! Don't give me that innocent act. You were a complete flirt with that elf in the mall last Christmas. You act like you're totally naïve, but in reality you know exactly what you're doing."

"I wasn't flirting with her," Elijah argued, drawing himself up a little straighter. "I was _charming_ her in order to get what I wanted out of her. I had no intention of dating her or even seeing her again. I have no intention of dating Lily either. I just met her. I don't even know her last name." He relaxed a bit, thinking, and brought his fingers to his mouth again. "What did I do that made you think I was flirting?"

Light was smiling at him, clearly unconvinced by the blond's arguments. "You know," he replied easily. "Smiling at her, talking to her about the things that interest her, complimenting her. Things like that."

Elijah blinked at him a moment, processing this. Then, an idea occurred to him, and he asked, "So when I talk to you and smile and tell you that I enjoy being friends with you, am I flirting with you, too?"

The blush that exploded over Light's cheeks was most enjoyable.

"No."

"But I know quite a bit about you and spend a lot of time with you."

"No."

"And I compliment you on your intelligence which I know is a point of pride for you."

"Dammit, 'Lija, I said _no_!"

Seeing Light so flustered was just too amusing. Elijah could no longer keep the smile off of his face. Light noticed it immediately -- the grin on the older man's lips and the dancing light in his eyes -- and his annoyance quickly turned into laughter. Elijah felt something within him unclench at the sound. It felt so good to hear Light laugh again. From now on, he would have to cherish each moment he heard it. He truly doubted he would be hearing it much this year.

Once Light had finished laughing, the two settled down to watch the game again, but a few minutes later, Elijah could not resist leaning over to the younger man for one more question.

"Have you ever flirted with me?"

When Light punched him in the arm, Elijah just grinned.

* * *

A/N: So, next chapter will be Light's thoughts and Charlie's introduction. Hoo boy.

Thanks as always to reviewers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Well, it appears that updates will continue to be slow for awhile. Here's the next one at least. Thanks for all your patience.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

It was a truce. He had to keep telling himself that. It was only a temporary truce.

Light stole a glance at Elijah as the blond attempted to decipher Ethan's homemade scoring sheet. That expression of mild confusion tempered with serene patience, Light had grown so accustomed to seeing it and all of its brothers. Everything about the man sitting next to him was comforting in its familiarity. Light had slipped into the role of best friend so easily, and although it had been a "role", he had not been acting.

Being with Elijah felt so natural. So right. The others, too, once they had decided to stop being angry at him. When he spent time with them, Light forgot about the troubles of this rotten, dying world. He forgot how it felt to be bored. Somehow, they gave light and color to his otherwise dull and dreary existence. And when he was with them, Light felt as if he belonged, as if he was one of many instead of one in a million.

It would all end soon, though. This dream world that he had found would not last. Nine outs to go became six, and soon they would become three. Behind him, Mark began to call them out as part of his cheering, like a merry version of a detonation countdown. Outwardly, Light applauded each batter that the home team retired, but in his heart, he mourned. He found himself secretly wishing that the visiting team would tie up the score and send the game into extra innings or that the home girls would have such a blowout inning that they batted around once, or even twice or three times. Anything to keep the game going and prevent it from ending. To prevent Elijah from becoming his enemy again.

"Pop up!" Annie cried as the bat clanked and the ball flew skyward. "That's it! That's the game!"

"Someone has to catch it first," Ethan reminded her, but his tone of voice held the expectation that someone would. And, in spite of Light's willing it otherwise, someone did.

The next several minutes were full of noise and movement as the girls packed up their gear and the spectators talked and celebrated. Light did not move from his seat on the bleachers. For once, he had no desire to make a preemptive strike; the atmosphere was still too hostile for one anyway. He would let Elijah make the first move and from there determine the direction the war would take.

Lily's voice broke into his thoughts as she asked, "Will you stay and meet Charlie?"

Before the younger man could so much as turn to look in her direction, Elijah had answered for the both of them. "Of course. We would be happy to."

Light swallowed a smile. His friend seemed to like Lily, although probably not in the way about which Light had teased him. If Elijah ever decided he was interested in women, however, the girl would make a good match for him. She was sweet, quiet, and, judging from her drawings, interested in details. And Light liked her, too, which was a must for any woman who wanted to date his best friend.

The smile that had succeeded in creeping onto Light's face slowly slipped off of it again. These thoughts he was having, they were irrelevant now. Because it was just a temporary truce, and it was almost over. Soon, he would be unable to call Elijah "friend". Soon, he would once again be a solitary god, ruling over the world and defending his position from those who sought to bring him down.

Something inside of him twisted. This was the road he had chosen and had walked for so long. It was his mission, his destiny. Not once had he doubted that he was doing the right thing. Not once had he considered stopping. And yet something in him hurt. It hurt so very much.

On the other side of Elijah, Lily had continued to speak. "I suppose I should warn you," she said nervously, twisting her fingers together. "Charlie tends to be a bit … energetic."

Elijah lifted an eyebrow at her in curiosity. "Why is energy a cause for alarm?" he asked.

"Well …" She looked down at her feet, then up at the horizon. "I just don't want you to be … put off by her. She's very special to me, and …" Her voice softened into nothing.

Shaking himself from his dark thoughts, Light opened his mouth with the intention of finally joining the conversation. Unfortunately, his gentle reassurances for Lily's benefit never got the chance to leave his throat. Before he could speak, a sound erupted from somewhere near the dugouts. A loud, wild cry like a scream from some crazed animal. And with it came a blur of color heading straight for Ethan.

"Rrrraaaaaaaaaaarrrrggggghhh!!"

The creature leapt onto Ethan's back and proceeded to pummel his head and shoulders with lightning fists.

"Oh dear," Lily said calmly as Light and Elijah just stared.

"Ethan, you bastard! I told you I'd get my revenge! I told you!"

"Waah! I thought you had forgiven me!" Ethan cried, repentant and scared, although Light could hear the laughter in his voice as well. He tried to pry his attacker off of his back, but he couldn't do much while also defending himself from the blows.

"I'll never forgive you!" the girl replied, for that was what the creature was. "Never! Never!"

"Um, is that … ?" Somehow, Elijah had found enough of his voice to begin the question in both of the stunned men's minds.

"Yes," Lily answered with a hint of a sigh. "That's Charlie."

Now that his shock had receded a bit, Light could see that the female attempting to beat Ethan into the ground was wearing the college's softball uniform and that the number on the back belonged to the athlete he and his friends had been cheering for most of the afternoon. He also realized, to his relief, that she was laughing just as much as Ethan was and that her punches were not strong enough to do much damage. She was, however, punching him, and Ethan was wincing as each blow fell.

"Why is she … ?" Elijah asked.

"Last December," Lily explained, "Kim made a cake for my birthday, but Charlie was sick so she stayed away from the small party we had. Kim saved a piece for her, but Ethan, not knowing that it was spoken for, ate it instead." She shook her head gently as she watched her friend continue to pound on Ethan while he staggered about. "Charlie doesn't allow herself to have many sweets, so she gets very protective of those she has declared to be hers. Excuse me a moment." Giving them both a small smile, she rose to her feet and began to walk towards the others.

On a hunch, Light glanced at his companion. Sure enough, Elijah was staring off into space, eyes wide, thumb pressed against his lips. The younger man could easily see what was tumbling through the elder's mind: the horrors of stolen cake. Back when they had worked together on the Kira case, Light had frequently wondered what would have happened if he had swiped L's precious sweets. He had a feeling that whatever retribution he would have received, it would have been much worse than simply being beaten into oblivion by a lanky softball player.

By the time Lily reached the two combatants, a small group had formed about them, mostly other girls on the team who were raucously cheering Charlie on. The small girl passed through them and walked straight up to Ethan's side.

"Charlie," she said calmly.

In spite of the enormous racket all around, the other girl heard her and immediately stopped. She plunked one elbow down on the top of Ethan's head, rested her own head in her hand, and grinned down at her friend. "Heya, Lily. What's up?"

Lily inclined her head back towards the bleachers and replied, "Elijah McCormick and Light Yagami are here and would like to meet you. You aren't making a very good first impression on them."

Charlie just shrugged. "Good? Maybe not. But it's an accurate first impression at least." With one last smash of a fist on Ethan's head, she leapt off of the junior's back and straightened out her uniform. "So, where are they?" She calmly walked away from Ethan, leaving him to recover by himself in the dirt.

Elijah and Light both stood as the women approached. After Lily had introduced them, Charlie shook Elijah's hand and then offered a shake to Light. The delicate-looking hand in front of him tricked Light into expecting an equally soft handshake. He should have known better. Once she had finished, he had to resist the urge to massage his shoulder muscles.

Now that he had a closer view, Light could see that Charlie was rather pretty in a rough, rugged way. Like most of the girls on the team, she was lean, tanned, and lightly muscled. Her hair, pulled into a ponytail and shoved through the opening in the back of her cap, was a knotted mess from the game and small bits that had broken free were sticking to her face and neck, but the look suited her somehow. She held herself with complete confidence, and her bright smile shone through all the dust and grass stains that covered her, making them practically invisible.

"I'm so glad to meet you finally," she was saying, not to Light but to Elijah. "Ethan's told us a lot, you know. He said you were sick before, and Lily and I were worried. But you're okay now?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Elijah answered. Because of the way he slouched, he had to peer upwards at the tall girl through his bangs. "Thank you for asking."

"Hey, no problem." She turned suddenly and faced Light. The blueness of her eyes surprised him; they almost sparkled in the sun. "And you're the Jap kid, right?"

Light blinked. Had she really just called him … ?

"The … what?" he asked carefully.

Behind Charlie, Lily gently clapped a hand to her face in exasperation, but the other girl plowed on without hesitation. "The Jap kid. You know, the exchange student thing. So, yeah, welcome to our country and all that shit."

"Charlie! Language!"

The blonde turned on her friend with an indignant expression. "What? I always talk like this, you know that. I'm not going to pretty myself up just so some snob will approve of me." She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought and proclaimed, "Screw that."

Lily looked mortified, but Elijah patted her gently on the shoulder, chuckling. "It's all right. Light and I don't mind." He grinned slyly and glanced briefly at Light before returning his eyes to Charlie. He was clearly enjoying this far more than he should have. "You're a little late on the greeting, Miss Charlie. Light's been here since fall."

"Oh, has he?" she replied easily. She turned back to Light and flicked her hands at him. "Go on back home then. You've been here long enough."

Light's cry of indignation stuck in his throat when she winked at him. He felt his face begin to burn. What the _hell_ was he supposed to make of this woman? She had the energy level of Misa but without any of the femininity. And she said whatever she damn well pleased. Hoping to get some form of backup, he looked to Lily, but the girl stood a few steps back with one hand over her face, peeking through her fingers as if at an imminent train wreck.

"Hey!" Charlie had focused her attention back to Elijah. "Did you just call me 'Miss'?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, don't." She lifted a fist and gently bopped the other, her elder by several years, on the top of the head. While Elijah just stood there, his mouth slightly open in shock, she planted her hands on her hips and began to look around. "Where's Kim?" she asked no one in particular. "We won which means ice cream, dammit. Oh, there she is. Come on, Lil."

She took off, dragging Lily by the hand behind her. The smaller girl tried to send the men a good-bye, but she was quickly pulled out of earshot. Once they had gone, Light and Elijah stood in silence for several minutes, both feeling as if they had been hit by a caravan of trucks.

"You know," Elijah finally managed, "I believe we have just witnessed the future of Mark and Annie should they decide ever to have children."

Light's eyes widened as he realized the other man was right. Annie's energy and Mark's loud mouth. Put them together and ramp them up a bit due to indulgent parenting, and you get the wild thing that had just left.

Covering his eyes with a hand, he groaned and replied, "We have to break them up. Now. For the good of humanity."

He had expected Elijah to laugh at his half-joke. To smile at the very least. Instead, the other man's expression blanked out, and serious blue eyes turned to regard him.

"You think of humanity quite a bit, don't you … Raito-kun?"

Light sucked in his breath and held it. A surprise attack! _Dammit!_ He had allowed himself to forget after all, and Elijah had caught him off guard. He wasn't mentally prepared for a battle right now. He should have kept his wits about him more. It was all that damn woman's fault. If she hadn't confused him … .

Narrowing his eyes, he shot back, "I thought this wasn't the time or place."

"It isn't," Elijah conceded quietly. "But I don't think we have a choice. I just noticed Annie stopping Ethan from approaching us." He smiled a little, an embarrassed, lop-sided gesture. "I imagine she has decided we are to make up now and won't let us leave until we do. Or at least give the impression of having done so."

As Light swallowed his irritation and took several steeling breaths, Elijah returned to his seat on the now-empty bleachers. "Sit down, Raito-kun," he ordered. "We have things to discuss."

For a moment, Light considered just walking away. But when he glanced over at where his other friends stood chatting, a pair of unyielding blue eyes glared back at him. Those eyes promised constant hounding and harassment until he gave in and did what their owner wanted. Sighing, he took his place beside Elijah.

"You have some serious back-up this time around," he remarked to the other with annoyance.

"I know," Elijah replied. "'The female of the species is more deadly than the male,' after all."

"Kipling."

"Indeed. Well done." He rested his chin on his drawn-up knees and blinked at Light. "You should know that whatever she did to get you here, I did not put her up to it."

"I know." Light leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and gazed at the ground. "Unfortunately, she thinks this problem between us can be resolved."

"And you think it can't?"

"Of course it can't," he replied with a scowl. "Your mission is to get me to give up the Death Note, and in order to do that, you're going to have to convince me that what I'm doing is wrong. I think we both know how impossible that is."

To Light's surprise, Elijah began to chuckle. When the younger man fixed him with an inquiring stare, he said, "I'm just amused by how stubborn you are, Raito-kun. I've informed you that Heaven itself does not approve of your actions, that God wishes for you to stop. Most men would need no other convincing. But you are not affected by that information in the least."

Light shrugged and looked away. "I don't believe in God."

"Indeed? My resurrection has not convinced you? Would you like to speak to Him yourself?"

"It wouldn't change my mind," Light stated. Returning his gaze to Elijah's, he clarified, "I know that Heaven and Hell exist, that Shinigami exist, and thanks to you, I know that angels exist. However, I don't _believe_ in any of those things, and even if God came down and looked me in the eye, I wouldn't believe in Him either. Because knowledge is not the same thing as belief. Belief implies faith, and I have absolutely no faith in a God that would let this world fall into ruin the way it has."

"Ah," Elijah breathed, "I see. So you would have God punish the wicked in this world as well as the next."

"No, I would have Him not allow the wicked to exist in this world at all!" Light frowned and gazed off into the distance with hard determination. "However since He has and since I have the means to punish them, I will continue to do so. If Heaven disapproves, then let God strike me down Himself instead of sending you to do his work for Him."

Elijah smiled slightly and began nibbling on a thumbnail. "Unfortunately, Heaven has a non-interference policy. Otherwise, I'm sure you would have been hit by a lightning bolt or two by now."

Surprised, Light turned to him and lifted an eyebrow. "Non-interference policy?"

"Yes," Elijah confirmed. "For the purpose of free will and such. Incidentally, that policy is why God does not simply smite all sinners Himself. When the world was in its infant stage, it was different, but now Heaven is allowing us the freedom to grow and learn on our own. We are in our teenage years, if you will, and it is up to us to decide whether we will become responsible adults or burn out before our time." He smiled again. "Your thinking would have us remain children forever, Kira-san."

Light's face flushed and he turned away. Having Elijah call him Kira felt uncomfortable. Regaining his confidence, he argued, "Better to be children and be happy and content than to be adults who suffer in pain and injustice."

"Well," Elijah murmured, nestling his chin in his knees again, "that is where our viewpoints differ."

"Yeah." Light sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So what do we do about this? I'm not going to give up the Death Note, and you're not going to stop trying to convince me to give it up because your life literally depends on it. We'll be fighting for the entire year."

"Perhaps not," Elijah replied. With his thumb once again between his lips, he continued, "You seem very certain of those two facts. I, however, am not convinced that I will be unable to persuade you. And as for the second point, if _you_ are able to persuade _me_ that your view is the better one, I will accept my defeat and simply live out the rest of my year normally."

Light turned to him in disbelief. "Really?" he asked. "You'd willingly die?"

"Why not?" Elijah returned with a shrug. "If you can recruit me to your cause, I don't see why I would have a problem with it. After all, a cause is something that is larger than oneself. You've given your soul for yours. Literally. My life is very little in comparison with that, especially since I've already been given two extra years. But Raito-kun …" He turned his head to his companion and gazed at him with serious eyes. "It will not be easy to convince me. I will be spending my time trying to convince you, and not because my continued existence depends on it. Because I truly believe that you are wrong in what you are doing."

"I understand," Light answered seriously. "It's not a fight, then, but a competition."

Elijah's lips quirked. "If you'd like to see it that way, yes."

"Then I accept your challenge." He stood and offered his hand to the other man. Elijah gazed at it for a moment before taking it and lifting his eyes to Light with a smile. After shaking Elijah's hand once to finalize their agreement, Light looked down at the long fingers he held. His lips curled in a smile.

"One more thing, 'Lij."

"What is it, Light?"

The brunet lifted the blond's hand and showed it to him. "This year, we're working on getting you to stop biting your nails."

Elijah blinked mournfully at him. "But Light …"

"No excuses!" he interrupted with a grin. "Look at them! They're pathetic. You're going to stop biting them, and that's that."

The little pout on Elijah's face made Light grin even more. He knew that this coming year would be very hard. They were both stubborn and set in their ways. He would probably end up wishing that he had ignored Annie and stayed away, safe with his memories from the previous year. But right now, standing there with his best friend's hand in his, arguing over the older man's bad habits, Light felt the knots in his chest ease and the ache subside. Right now, if only temporarily, it was all okay.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Ugh. I'm not even going to bother explaining why this update is so late. Suffice to say, winter _sucks_. I want it to be spring. The good news is that it's the longest chapter so far, so enjoy.

One other thing: I have not read _Another Note_ or anything about it other than its Wiki entry. Elijah's thoughts in this chapter are based on my own speculation and nothing else.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Elijah sat in his swivel chair, two fingers in his mouth, and stared at the blank browser window on his computer screen. What he was about to do was risky. It annoyed him to admit it, but he wasn't entirely sure what the rules were anymore. He knew he couldn't waltz into the ICPO or the Kira Investigation Headquarters and announce that he was back from the dead, but what about this? He wouldn't be speaking to anyone and, since he knew how to cover his tracks, no one would know he had even been there. But it hovered dangerously close to a violation of the old third rule, and even though his current mission obliterated that rule, he was still worried. Normally, he wouldn't even bother, but if he was going to fight Light, he needed ammunition.

Suppressing a tired sigh, Elijah shut his eyes and worked on calming himself down. This anxiety was pointless. He had already conducted the mental debate over this matter a week ago and decided without question that the result was worth the risk. He needed to do this, and he needed to do it soon. He was running out of time. Since their partial reconciliation at the softball game, Light had been extremely busy with end-of-term preparations. But the dedicated student had finished his last exam, turned in his last paper, and given his last presentation. He was due to move into the spare room down the hall tomorrow afternoon. Elijah had to do this now.

With one final sharp inhalation, Elijah's eyes flew open and his hands shot forward to the keyboard. His fingers typed in familiar numbers and letters, and within seconds, login procedures that he knew too well presented themselves. He rushed through them without thinking. And then, when he was solidly within the database, he paused and waited, hands hovering over the keys expectantly. Slowly, eyes closed once more, he counted to ten. Then he counted to twenty. Carefully, he cracked open one eye and looked left, then right.

Nothing.

Relieved, Elijah exhaled the breath he had been holding and ran his fingers through his messy hair. Apparently, this was okay. Either that or his soul monitor was purposely turning a blind eye so that he could more easily complete his mission. That didn't seem as unlikely as it once might have. He smirked as he briefly wondered just how many souls the "angel" had bet on his success this time around.

Shaking that thought and all others aside for now, he leaned forward and began typing again. He knew exactly what he wanted and exactly where to find it. The longest part of this process would be downloading it to his own hard drive. He knew he'd never have time to take it all, but he didn't want it all. Just the ones that he could use effectively against Light.

While his internet connection clicked away at its task, Elijah began to bring up files that had already finished downloading in preparation to print them. One by one, they appeared on his screen, stayed long enough for orders to be sent, and then disappeared once their hard copies lay on his desk. He worked without thinking, without really seeing the information in front of him, but then …

Elijah froze, one hand hovering over the mouse next to him. A face stared out at him from his computer screen, and he stared back. She was just as pretty as he remembered. In the picture, her lips curved in a little half-smile, as if she was uncertain whether she should smile or not for her official photo, and in spite of the two dimensions in which she was encased, her eyes danced. The hand that had stilled slowly lifted to Elijah's mouth as he looked at her.

Naomi.

Memories flooded into him. None of them were particularly moving or special, but Elijah found to his shock that his eyes were filling with tears. Because she was dead. Because Light had killed her. He had worked with her and found her to be pleasant and efficient, worth a bit of his notice. She and Penber had had a bright future together, and Light had killed them both.

A tear rolled down Elijah's cheek; furiously, he scrubbed it away. He did not have time for this. He had to finish his work. Emotions had no place here. Roughly, he grabbed the mouse again and printed out her file, shutting it down as soon as possible. _Focus on the work. Don't think about anything other than the ultimate goal. Don't remember. Don't feel._

Little by little, his heart closed. Memories faded; emotions dulled. Eventually, his fingers flew across the keyboard just as they always had done while his gaze flicked about on the screen, finding what he wanted with ease. Nothing mattered but the job. The conclusion. The result. _The case_ …

His shoulders hunched forward; a phantom weight was settling on them. He ignored it.

_Focus. The case. Kira. _

His bare toes gripped the edge of his chair. On one foot, the largest digit twitched and fidgeted, rubbing up against its neighbor.

_Focus …_

The world was fading away around him. The tapping of the keys and the clicking of the mouse were the only sounds in existence, all else muted by the intensity of his concentration. Even the whirr of the printer had been sucked away into the aural black hole that surrounded him. Everything -- all focus, all energy, all existence -- tunneled straight forward and paused on that glowing screen where the answers to everything sat waiting for him to discover them. All he had to do was concentrate.

His left hand groped blindly on the desk next to his keyboard while the right continued to click through data. Dammit, where was his cake? Surely it had been there a moment ago. His coffee had disappeared as well. Watari must have cleared them without substituting new ones. His hand curled briefly into a fist before jumping back to the keys and making them clatter. He'd deal with it in a minute, just as soon as he was done with this data.

Blank, staring eyes peered at the screen through thick bangs. His eyes felt heavy and ached a bit from focusing so intently on the machine in front of him, but he worked through it. He didn't have time for rest. And besides, no one would care if he had dark circles under his eyes. He never actually spoke to anyone face to face, after all.

So much information to go through, like a maze, but he would find his way. He knew what he wanted. He was in control. Here were the relevant deaths from the first Kira, here the second, and here the third. He wanted this file and this one. This one could wait until later. Select. Print. Select. Print. Pass. Pass. Select. Move forward. Work. Focus.

A rogue voice drifted into his sphere of concentration. Someone was calling him. He frowned. Didn't that person realize he was busy? Leaning forward even more, he ignored the sound and continued working.

"_… L! … L, can you hear me? …_"

_Stop calling me. Just put the cake on the table next to me and leave._

" _… L?... L! … L --_ ijah!"

Air rushed into his lungs as he gasped. _What?_

"Elijah? Are you even up there?"

He blinked. And blinked again. That voice …

_Julie!_

Panting as if he had run a mile, Elijah leapt out of his seat and ran to the door. He threw it open and called down, "Yes, I'm here! I'm sorry!"

She laughed, the sound rising to him from the first floor. "That's okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to tell you that dinner's ready."

"All right," he answered, placing a hand over his heart. It was beating so fast. "I'll be down in a minute." Was that moisture running down the side of his face? Was he _sweating_?

"Don't take too long," his mother replied. "Just because it goes cold doesn't mean you get out of eating it." She laughed lightly before walking away.

Elijah closed the door as her footsteps faded and turned back to the interior of his room. His chair lay on its side near the bed; he had knocked it over in his haste. The stack of printouts and the glowing screen beckoned to him from the desk. Quickly, Elijah crossed to the keyboard and, not bothering to fetch his chair, logged himself out and began to erase his tracks. Once that was done, he stood for a moment, hands pressed against the edge of the desk, head hanging down, and breathed slowly in and out.

After a long minute, he let his eyes stray to the pile of paper a few feet away. The stack was large. Much larger than he realized. He had robotically printed all of them out, not thinking about what they represented. Now, however, he let himself understand. Each sheet of paper in that large pile corresponded to a person. A victim. A death.

Sadness welled up within him. Hard. Strong. Elijah let it come and didn't fight it. He wanted to feel sad. He wanted to mourn these people who had died at Kira's hand. Innocents, all of them. Not a single one with a criminal record. They deserved his tears, and Elijah would give them. Because Elijah knew what it felt like to be happy, to be sad, to be lonely, and to be loved. Elijah understood emotion and embraced it, even when it frightened him. Elijah had a family and friends, people who held a piece of his heart within their bodies and who had filled his own heart with pieces of theirs.

And L …

Elijah swallowed and lifted his head.

L was dead.

Carefully, Elijah picked up the stack of printouts, evened up their bottoms, and slipped them into his desk drawer for later. Once that was done, he retrieved his chair and set it up properly. Then, he shut down his computer and turned off the printer.

The last thing he did before heading down to dinner with his family was crouch down beneath his desk and _yank_ the computer cord out of the wall.

xXx

Light had just finished packing his slacks and was about to move on to his shirts when a sharp knock at the door drew his attention. He closed his closet so that he could open his door -- one of the "perks" of dormitory life -- and reached for the knob, fully expecting to see Ethan on the other side. Instead, he found himself face to face with a blinding grin and a set of sparkling blue eyes.

"Hiya! Ethan said you're moving today and could maybe use some extra muscle."

Shocked in spite of himself, Light blinked and took a step backwards. "Charlie?"

"Oh good, you remember me," she said with a laugh. Without waiting for an invitation, she pushed her way past him and hefted the closest box into her arms. "Not done packing yet?" she commented after letting her eyes roam around the room, taking in the half-empty suitcases and the open drawers. "That's fine. You work on that while I haul the finished stuff downstairs."

Her unexpected appearance had momentarily stunned him, but as she headed for the door again, intent on making off with his things, he quickly regained his wits. "Wait a minute!" he cried, reaching out and grabbing her by the arm. When she lifted an eyebrow at him in question, he let go of her and continued in as smooth a tone as he could produce, "Look, I appreciate your offer, I really do, but it's not necessary. Ethan should be here soon, and Rich will be coming with the car. The three of us will be plenty for what I have."

Unfortunately for him, she responded by wrinkling her nose. "You're turning down help?" she asked incredulously. "What, are you stupid?" He winced at the word, making her grin. "Oh, I get it," she drawled, shifting the box to the side and holding it with one hand. "You're uncomfortable asking me for help because we don't really know each other." She waved her free hand as if dismissing that thought. "Forget it. Moving sucks. _Really_ sucks. For everyone. So it's totally okay to accept any help that you can get." When he remained silent, she added, "Besides, we'll get to know each other this summer I bet. I'm sticking around to work at the athletic camp being held on campus, and Lily lives here. Her parents are, like, two blocks away. Aren't they, Lil?" She turned her head and, noticing the absence of another person, walked to the doorway and leaned out a bit. "Lily? Where'd you go?"

"Right here," the other girl's voice answered just outside the door. She appeared in the hallway a moment later. "I was just keeping out of the way," she explained with a smile.

"Good thinking," Charlie smiled back at her. Turning to Light, she announced, "So I'm going to start taking this stuff downstairs. I brought Lily along to sit with them while I'm moving up and down so that no one tries to steal anything. And while we do that, you finish up what you haven't packed yet. Okay?"

Light sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Being around Charlie was certainly tiring. And she was going to be around all summer? "Okay," he answered her, deciding not to fight it anymore. "Just take everything down to the first floor lounge. Rich will be here soon with the car."

"Got it!" She pushed out the door and headed down the hall, Lily trailing behind. As the girls walked away, their voices drifted back to Light.

"Who's Rich?"

"Damned if I know."

"Then how am I supposed to know if it's okay for him to take Light's things?"

"Eh, we'll figure that out later."

"But … !"

Shaking his head, Light turned back to his task.

Over the next half hour, Light packed while Charlie toted boxes and bags down the stairs. Eventually, Ethan showed up as well, and the two of them soon ran out of things to carry as Light could not keep up. Charlie immediately took control of the situation and ordered Ethan to box up Light's computer while she turned to the shirts still hanging in his closet. Concerned for his wardrobe, Light briefly protested, but once he watched her rapidly and cleanly fold a dress shirt so that there was no danger of wrinkles, his objections turned to questions.

"I've worked in retail," she informed him as her fingers quickly folded another shirt, "as well as lots of other places." A small smile, quite unlike her usual wide grins, turned up her lips. Softly, as if confiding a secret, she continued, "If it's difficult, disgusting, or degrading, I've done it."

Light turned back to the winter clothing in his bottom drawers, feeling subdued for some reason he didn't understand. The two worked in quiet for several minutes, the silence broken only by Ethan's entrances and exits as he moved the pieces of the computer to the first floor. Soon, Ethan announced that Rich had finally arrived and that he would be downstairs loading the car. After that, the silence remained intact. It unexpectedly bore down on Light's shoulders, and he found himself glancing frequently at the young woman emptying his closet. She had established herself as a loud, boisterous, obnoxious individual; it didn't seem right for her to be so quiet. Yet Light felt he didn't know her well enough to comment on her silence or even ask what was wrong, so he said nothing.

They had filled one suitcase and moved onto another when a soft sigh at his side caused Light to pause in his packing. Charlie had knelt down next to the bag and was running her fingers along one of the cashmere sweaters he had just placed in it.

Noticing his eyes on her and his questioning expression, she smiled and commented, "You have some nice things, Light."

He smiled back. "Thank you. I've been told I have good taste."

"That's not what I meant," she replied, shaking her head a little. She sat back on her heels, her expression distant. "Your folks are rich, aren't they?"

Surprised at the question, he paused before answering, "I wouldn't call them rich, but they have enough."

"Nice home? Nice clothes? The occasional indulgence?" When he nodded, her smile saddened. In a quieter voice, she said half to herself, "Never had to wonder where your next meal was coming from?"

"Of course not," he answered automatically, but then the pieces clicked together in his mind and he leaned forward a bit. "Why? Did you?"

Charlie didn't answer him. Instead, she stood up swiftly and grabbed the suitcase they had set aside. When she turned to him again, her customary grin was back on her face. "We're almost done, so I'll go ahead and take this one down," she announced. Before he could reply, she had hefted the suitcase over her shoulder by the strap and left the room.

Once she had gone, Light took a moment to run his own fingers over the soft cashmere of his sweater. So, Charlie's family was poor. That explained why she had fallen silent while handling Light's expensive shirts. Seeing such casual wealth in another had pulled at her heart. Light took a moment to consider how this information affected him. He concluded that it didn't. He felt no guilt over his family's position or pity over hers. The only thing it did do was help him understand how a reserved, polite girl like Lily could put up with such a wild tornado of a person like Charlie was. Smiling at this and at the two's odd friendship, he returned to his packing.

It didn't take much longer to finish, and soon Light was walking about his room, opening drawers and looking under and behind furniture to make absolutely sure he had gotten everything. When he was satisfied that he had, he turned out the light, closed and locked the door, put the key in the envelope the school had provided, and dropped it into the box in front of the dorm leader's door on his way downstairs. When he reached the street, he found that Rich had already left, taking the girls with him. Ethan was waiting, however, and the two walked to the McCormicks' house together.

The second half of Light's Moving Day was very similar to the first, just in reverse and slightly faster. Light, Rich, Ethan, and Charlie toted boxes and bags out of the car while Lily and Julie held doors and offered moral support. Elijah watched from a safe distance, a little smile on his lips. In the background, the TV proclaimed the news, weather, and sports, but no one paid it any attention.

The movers had decided to bring everything into the house first and then take it all upstairs to Light's room. This plan provided a perfect break point, and Julie took advantage of it by running to the kitchen and bringing out drinks for everyone. Light gladly accepted one and took a moment to catch his breath and cool his throat. Ethan had collapsed onto the couch, and Light was considering joining him when a soft voice stopped him.

"Um, Light?"

He turned his head to find that Lily had approached him from the side, almost shyly.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't much help with the moving today," she said. "If you'd like, I can help you unpack things. Put books on shelves and clothes in drawers, that kind of thing."

Her expression was open, honest; she truly did want to help and felt bad that she hadn't. Light gave her an honest, heartfelt smile in return. "That's a kind offer, Lily," he replied, "but no thank you. I'm not going to unpack much. I know it looks like I have a lot of stuff, but a good part of it is winter clothes and school items. I was just going to leave those packed."

"Oh, I see," she replied. Disappointment touched her face briefly, but she brushed it away in favor of concern for him. "It must be hard living abroad."

"It's not hard," he said with a lazy shrug. "Just a bit annoying at times. Today's a good example."

His comment brought a smile to her face, and she made as if to speak further. Instead, her eyes widened and her face paled. She took a step back from him, lips slightly parted in an expression of distress. Confused, Light took a breath to ask what was wrong, but then he noticed that her eyes looked not at him but at something over his shoulder. He turned to see the newsmen on TV reporting the latest of Kira's activities.

"Lily? What's the matter?" Charlie had appeared, drawn to her friend as if by magic.

"Nothing," Lily replied, but her voice was weak and she would not meet the other girl's eyes.

Concerned, Charlie's gaze also went to the TV, and she drew the same conclusion as Light had. "Kira again," she spat, her normally-bright face darkening. "That murdering bastard. Why doesn't someone catch him already?"

"Charlie …"

The taller girl cut her off by grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her over to the pile of boxes. "Come on, Lil," she said with false cheerfulness. "I'm gonna start taking these things upstairs, and you gotta cheer me on." She hefted a box into her arms and grunted in surprise. Turning to Light, she called, "What's in here? Books?" She laughed, apparently thinking her comment funny.

The sudden and unexplained tension had confused Light, but he could feel it start to dissipate due to Charlie's efforts. Sighing at the prospect of toting boxes once more, he set his drink on the coffee table and moved toward the girls. He had only taken a few steps, however, when Elijah's voice cut through the room with its quiet intensity.

"Amazing, isn't it?" he said, referring to Charlie's comment. "Kira supporters read, too."

Charlie and Lily both froze. Light's mind first reeled, then raged. How _dare_ the other man bring up Kira in front of so many others? If Elijah wanted to discern the girls' opinions on the subject, there were other, more _discreet_ ways of doing so. Clearly, he just wanted to put Light on the spot. Again.

Furious, Light turned his head to his best friend and his worst enemy. Elijah had taken advantage of the stunned silence in the room to wander up to Light's side, his thumb between his smirking lips. He cocked his head at Light and gave him a little smile. Light wanted to wring his scrawny neck.

Following Elijah's idly destructive comment, neither girl had moved for several seconds; Lily recovered first. Hesitantly, she gave Light a small, wary smile and asked in a voice that was trying not to shake, "Is that true, Light? You support Kira?"

That look, plus the one on Charlie's face, left no doubt as to where this conversation was headed, but Light resolved to maintain as much of his dignity as possible. Keeping his outward appearance calm and nonchalant, he replied, "I'm apparently the only one around here who does, but yes, I do."

The box of books that Charlie had held hit the ground with a loud _crash_, making everyone in the room jump. Annoyed in spite of himself, Light sent a fierce glare in her direction, but as his eyes met hers, his irritation turned to shock and unease. The sparkle in her eyes was gone. Instead they _burned_, as if all the anger and hatred of the world had been gathered together, distilled to absolute purity, and infused into her gaze.

"You …" she said, her voice low, quiet, and terribly intimidating. "You can move your own damn stuff."

She turned sharply on her heel and moved to leave, but Lily caught her around the elbow and held her back. The smaller girl's eyes and voice clearly showed how upset she was, but she managed to keep the rest of herself under control.

"Charlie!" she cried. "He has the right to his own opinion! He can support who he wants!"

Charlie spun on her, and now the other girl's rage burned freely. She shouted, "And I have the right to refuse to help anyone who thinks that fucking _monster_ is _right_! It's sick! That piece of shit doesn't give a fuck about anyone! I am not going to lift one finger to help anyone who's too fucking _blind_ to see that. Anyone who's _stupid_ enough to actually approve of that bastard!"

"Chelsea Anne Moskowitz!"

Charlie stilled at the use of her full name. While the rest of the occupants of the room held their breath, she and Lily just stared at each other. Both girls trembled, one from anger, the other from barely-suppressed anguish. Then, Lily lifted her chin a little higher and said, "Finish what you started."

Charlie shut her eyes, a quiet growl rumbling in her throat. A moment later, her eyes flashed open again, and, giving Lily a pointed glare, she bent down and picked up the box she had dropped.

"And watch your language," Lily told her as she moved to take the box upstairs. "You're in a professor's home, not a dugout."

The other girl just walked briskly away, not bothering to look back. Once she had gone, Lily allowed her control to slip. Her shoulders slumped and her hands shook as she braced herself against a nearby chair.

Julie was at her side in an instant. "Are you all right, dear?"

"I'll be fine. Just give me a moment."

Still unconvinced, Julie wrapped an arm around Lily's shoulders and brushed away a few tears that had escaped her eyes. "Come on into the kitchen," she coaxed. "I'll make you some tea if you like."

"That would be nice. Thank you."

"Wait just one moment, please." Elijah took a step forward; when Lily's eyes rested on him, he smiled apologetically at her. "That was the most violent anti-Kira reaction I've ever experienced," he said with a tinge of awe in his voice. "I'm sorry to ask, Lily, but I'm curious. Did Kira do something to her or to someone she knows?"

Her dark eyes shimmering, Lily shook her head and tried to smile. "No," she replied. "Not to Charlie." She blinked, and a tear escaped, running down her cheek in a thin line. "A story for another time," she added before Elijah could ask any more questions. Laying her head on Julie's shoulder, she let the other woman lead her away.

"Geez, 'Lij, I know you sometimes like to tease Light and all, but that was a little inappropriate, don't you think?"

Both men turned to find that Ethan had risen from his seat and walked over to them while they were distracted.

Elijah gave him a lopsided smile and replied to his comment, "I suppose it was. My apologies."

Shaking his head a little, the junior crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. "Nah, that's okay," he sighed. "I probably should have warned you about Charlie. No one hates Kira more than she does." He shrugged and, looking to Light, changed the topic. "Don't worry about the rest of the moving. Rich and I will do it. I'll also make sure that Charlie doesn't try to sabotage your stuff. You just worry about staying out of her way for now."

Light nodded. "Thanks, Ethan."

"No problem." He turned and, lifting one hand in farewell, walked off towards the stairs.

Once they were alone, Light planted his hands on his hips and stared pointedly at Elijah. He just knew the irritating blond was going to make some comment about Light's decreasing popularity or something similar. When that freckled face did turn to him, however, Light was surprised to see not a smirk but a very unhappy glare.

"What did you do to Lily, Kira-san?" Elijah asked in a low voice.

Light blinked, not expecting that response, but then his eyes narrowed. Having Elijah call him Kira was really starting to rub him the wrong way. "I didn't do anything to your girlfriend, L-_san_."

"Lily is not my girlfriend," Elijah replied evenly, ignoring the name. "And from what we just witnessed, I feel it safe to assume that the second part of your statement is also false."

Sighing heavily, Light reined in his annoyance and stated with careful calm, "Obviously, you are assuming that she was close to someone that I judged. While I agree that this is most likely the case, I don't see how you could expect me to know who this person was. I don't exactly memorize every name I write down."

"Ah yes," Elijah said with fake casualness, "I forgot. You have the ability to kill people without bothering to find out anything about them. Their family, their history, those things are not important. Nor are their future plans or dreams. Name, face, crime, that's all you need to know. Such a clean, cold way to kill."

Light rolled his eyes. "Look, 'Lij," he said, "I am not in the mood for this right now. I just moved all of my worldly possessions from one small room to another, and, even though I'm still young, that's a _lot_ of stuff. My head hurts, my muscles ache, and all I want to do is sleep for a week. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go into the kitchen where there is a sweet older woman making tea and a sweet younger woman who may just be the only thing keeping me from getting my throat slit by a rampaging softball player. We will simply have to have this conversation another time."

Not waiting for a response, he turned his back on the other man and walked away. Before he reached the kitchen and the waiting comfort of feminine care, however, he managed to catch Elijah's parting words to him:

"I always knew you were an intelligent young man, Light Yagami."

* * *

Extra A/N: A few readers have expressed confusion about Elijah's "ammunition", specifically how many innocents there actually were. If you're also confused by that, here's my explanation: I haven't tried to estimate the exact number, but at the very least there were the 12 FBI agents, Naomi, Watari, L (if you want to count him), the TV people and the policemen that Misa killed, all the businessmen the Yotsuba guys killed, and then the people that Higuchi killed who had killed others _accidentally_ like in a car crash. That's probably about 30 to 40 sheets of paper and, while it's not a phone book, that is quite a lot. Yes, Light didn't kill all of those people, but he is _responsible_ for them because he started this mess. I was going to have Elijah explain some of this in a later chapter and probably still will since I see no reason to rewrite my story because of an extra author note, but to limit the question marks right now, I decided to explain it here as well. Hope it helped. :) 


	6. Chapter 6

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

One night. That was all it took for Light to break. All his self-control, his acting skills, his patience and determination, none of it made the slightest difference. He snapped like a thin twig. Like dry spaghetti. Like a stick of stale pocky.

It was all Elijah's fault.

He had been relaxing on the couch with Rich, pretending to watch the baseball game on the television and enjoying the feeling of being moved in. Elijah sat in a nearby chair, the Sunday _Times_ crossword puzzle on his knees. The blond was doing the puzzle in his head, a fact that didn't surprise Light in the least. Nor was he surprised by the thumb wedged solidly between the other young man's lips. Surprise and irritation, however, are two separate things, and little by little, Light felt his good mood slipping away.

He tried not to watch as white teeth nibbled on a nail so short that it barely existed at all. Tried not to notice how distorted the blond's face looked when he pushed his lip to one side, then the other. Tried not to feel relieved when the hand came down to steady the newspaper or aggravated when that hand immediately returned to its previous position. Light tried to ignore Elijah; he really did.

But then, Elijah switched over to his index finger, and Light just snapped.

Rising abruptly from his seat, he strode over to Elijah, grabbed the blond by the arm, and yanked him to his feet, sending the newspaper tumbling to the ground. He paused only long enough for the other to catch his balance and then began pulling him towards the kitchen. Elijah voiced multiple questions and protests, but Light ignored him. Only when they had reached the kitchen did he turn and face his confused friend.

"Get on the counter," he ordered.

Elijah's eyes widened in incomprehension. "What?"

Light resisted the urge to snarl. "You. Counter. Get on it. Now."

When the older man still did not move, Light decided to take the matter into his own hands. Swiftly and smoothly, he wrapped his arms around Elijah's torso, dipped his own body down for added leverage, and lifted the skinny blond onto the counter next to the sink. One of Elijah's legs instinctively moved upwards so that he could sit in his favored position, but Light shoved it back down with a pointed look.

"Stay there," he instructed. "Don't move."

Too stunned to speak, Elijah just nodded. Satisfied that his orders would be followed for now, Light turned to the cabinets. Julie had already given him the "our house is your house" speech, so he didn't hesitate. He began throwing open doors and rooting around inside, looking for something that would serve his purpose. Eventually, he found something suitable and moved his search to the drawers. Once he had found the second item, he pulled out a small bowl and turned back to Elijah with all three.

Elijah blinked at the bowl, the basting brush, and the bottle of tabasco sauce. "Light?" he asked carefully. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, 'Lij," Light answered brusquely. He set his tools down, opened the bottle, and poured a small amount into the bowl. Then, he lifted his eyes to Elijah and, seeing that thumb in his mouth again, reached up and ripped the hand away with a small growl. While one hand held Elijah's in place, the other pinched the bristles of the brush together to make them narrower, dipped the brush into the bowl, and carefully began to spread the sauce in a thin layer over Elijah's fingernails.

The blond's eyebrows shot skywards. "Light?"

"Yes?"

"You are painting my nails."

"I know."

"With tabasco sauce."

"Yes."

"I think you should see a doctor at once."

"No."

A cough from the entrance to the kitchen drew Light's attention. He and Elijah both turned their heads to see Rich standing in the entranceway, an expression of amused confusion on his face.

"Light," he asked, "what are you doing to my son?"

Light straightened and answered strongly, "I am making it my quest this summer to get 'Lij to stop biting his fingernails. Right now I am applying an unpleasant taste to them so that when one goes into his mouth, he will be hard pressed to keep it there."

To Light's satisfaction and Elijah's despair, Rich burst into laughter. "Good luck with that," he said, crossing to the refrigerator to get himself a beer. "You're going to need it."

"Dad!" Elijah cried, hoping for rescue.

"Sorry, kid," his father replied with a grin. "I'm with Light on this one." He clapped Light on the shoulder once as he passed and exited to the other room.

Elijah deflated, shoulders slumping and lips turning down in a heavy frown. He tried a few times to pull his hand out of Light's, but the younger man kept a firm grip on it. Finally, he gave up and allowed Light to continue brushing sauce over his nails.

"If Raito-kun wanted to paint my nails, he only had to ask," he grumbled. "He didn't have to torture me like this."

Light smiled. Getting his way had improved his mood greatly. As he dropped the first hand and picked up the other, he said gently, "You should stop calling me that. I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Rich has already left."

"But you shouldn't get into the habit. It's dangerous." He stopped his work for a moment to look into the other's large eyes. Smiling, he stated, "I can't recruit you to my side if you go back early."

Elijah's lips quirked. Light had seen the small bit of surprise in those blue eyes at the unexpected offer of battle, and now he watched as the older man's mind engaged, preparing to accept. He also watched, with interest, as the hand he wasn't holding rose to those half-smiling lips.

As expected, the moment his thumb slipped into his mouth, Elijah's face contorted and his eyes popped wide. Light tried not to laugh, but he couldn't help himself, especially when the other man leaned over and began spitting into the sink.

"Th-that … that's t-_terrible_!"

"That's the point," Light replied to Elijah's stuttered announcement. Then, he cried, "Oh no you don't!" as the other attempted to turn on the faucet and wash off his hands. The two fought over the sink for a moment before Light prevailed and pulled Elijah away. Seeing the blond's face still wrinkled in sensory displeasure, Light took pity on him and reached for a paper towel. After wetting it down and wringing out the extra water, he wiped gently at Elijah's mouth. Elijah stiffened briefly at the strange contact, but soon relented, opening his mouth just enough for Light to get the offending taste off of his lips.

Once Light had finished and returned to his nail-painting, he asked casually, "So, where were we?"

Elijah sighed gently, watching the brush apply the disgusting taste to his hands. "You were recruiting me to your side," he answered, his tone betraying his continued discontent. The fingers on his free hand began to twitch, as if aching to be bitten.

Light finished up with the last nail and turned to the sink to clean the bowl and brush. Raising his voice to be heard over the running water, but not enough for it to carry into the other room, he joked, "Oh, that's right. I had forgotten." Elijah made a face at him, but Light didn't continue with the play-fight. Instead, he gave his friend an honest smile and began to talk in earnest.

"I think we both know each other's minds very well. We agree that there is much evil in the world. Crime and violence. When I received the Death Note, I took it upon myself to help others by eliminating those evil elements that had slipped through the cracks of an imperfect justice system. Killers who had gone free due to lack of evidence, mistakes made by the police, or other technicalities that money-hungry lawyers use to confuse and confound juries. By doing this, I not only avenged the families that were cheated of justice, but I also prevented these criminals from acting again, from hurting more people. This is my mindset, my stand, which you already know."

Elijah was watching him with unblinking blue eyes. Eyes that, Light was happy to see, held no judgment or condemnation. Eyes that merely observed and took heed.

"Yes, I do," he replied to Light's statement.

Finished with the dishes, Light turned off the water, wiped his hands off on a nearby towel, and then turned back to Elijah, meeting those eyes with his own.

"Your mindset," he continued, "is that regardless of what my actions prevent or whom they help, I am still killing these people and am therefore guilty of murder. I am not killing in self-defense, nor are they accidents; therefore under the law I have committed a crime and should be tried and punished accordingly."

"Yes."

"So, to simplify, the root of our conflict is that I am willing to discard the law in order to attain justice, and you are willing to discard justice in order to remain true to the law."

Elijah frowned and cocked his head. He began to lift a hand to his face, but Light caught it and held it before it could go far. This discussion was too important for another interruption, amusing as the first one had been.

Realizing what he had been about to do, Elijah looked at Light with wide eyes for a moment before softening into a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He guided the hand back to Elijah's lap but, for safety's sake, decided not to relinquish it just yet. "Do you agree with my assessment?" he asked, bringing them back on topic.

"No," Elijah replied with a small shake of his head. "Substitute 'results' for 'justice', however, and I will. Justice is an abstract concept that can easily change based on personal opinions. Your view of justice is different than mine and is, in fact, a sizable part of our disagreement."

Light quickly ran his sentence through his head again, making the requested change, and nodded. "Fine. I can agree to that."

"Then I agree to your simplified description of our dispute."

"All right. Since that is the case, my course of action is to show you that the results that I have obtained are too significant and too beneficial to discard."

"And _my_ course of action is to show _you_ that those results are not as significant as you think they are, nor will they ever be."

Both young men fell silent for several long minutes. They gazed at each other, not in anger or in challenge, but in a kind of quiet understanding. Looking at Elijah, at his calm face and his bright eyes, Light felt a kind of peace settling over him. He had always enjoyed challenges, the thrill of competition, the ever-lurking fear of defeat, but this serenity was also nice. For once, he didn't feel the need to hide himself or his motivations behind layers of lies and carefully-constructed masks. He could just be himself, put his views and beliefs out there for Elijah to consider, and watch and listen as Elijah did the same. Perhaps this was what the crafty blond had meant to accomplish when he had admitted so readily to his mission to kill Kira. By hiding nothing from Light from the beginning, Elijah had rid Light of the desire to hide anything from him.

"So," Elijah finally said, breaking the silence, "if we are both resolved, I would like to ask a question if I may, Kira-san."

Light successfully stopped himself from wincing, but his eyes skirted away from the other man's. "Don't call me that," he requested in a suddenly stern tone. "I don't like it."

"Why?" the innocent question came. "It's what the world calls you, and you've never shown any hesitation or regret in what you do."

"That doesn't mean I like the _name_," Light insisted. His gaze drifted down to the hands he still held, their nails still glistening with a reddish tint. "I've never liked that name, and I would appreciate it if you would stop using it."

A small smile lifted the corners of Elijah's mouth. He leaned forward until the tops of their heads were barely touching. "Sumimasen, Raito-kun," he whispered.

"Baka," Light replied, also in a whisper. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself. "I told you that that's dangerous." Elijah chuckled, and Light enjoyed the sound for a moment before asking, "What's your question?"

"Well, I have more than one, actually, but we'll start with this one: why, if your aim was to punish those who had eluded an imperfect justice system, did you kill criminals who were in jail and serving their time?"

"Ah," Light breathed, pushing back a bit and lifting his head so he could look at the other. Deciding to trust Elijah with his nails again, he let go of those long-fingered hands and placed his own palms on the counter on either side of the blond's bony knees. "You should be able to figure out the answer to that one," he replied in light reprimand.

"I have," Elijah grinned, "but I want to hear you say it yourself."

"Very well then: discouragement. I do not only want to avenge past crimes; I also want to prevent future crimes from happening, both by eliminating current criminals and by discouraging others to turn to crime as a solution to their problems. If I had limited myself to criminals who had gone free, it would have taken much longer for news of my existence to spread. The police and the press would have eventually come to the conclusion that these deaths were connected, but by including incarcerated criminals, I not only increased my options but also drove home the point of exactly who my targets are."

"I suppose I must agree that having a dozen criminals in the same jail all suddenly drop dead of heart attacks is a rather potent form of advertisement." Elijah tipped his head back and regarded the ceiling with interest. "So, your motive is to create a compelling deterrent to crime, much as the present legal system does." Ignoring the younger man's mild snort of disgust, he continued, "However, in spite of having the threat of Kira's judgment hanging over them, people continue to commit violent crimes."

"Not as many as before," Light argued.

"True, but …" Elijah's eyes came back down and held Light's brown ones strongly. "During the time you and Miss Amane were in my custody, directly before Higuchi became the third Kira, the crime rate rose dramatically. Kira may keep the criminals in check, but they still exist, waiting for Kira to die or be caught so that they can come out of hiding. This perfect world that you are trying to create is only temporary since your methods do not encourage true change. It will not last."

Light smiled slightly. He had heard this argument before. "I concede that it will take a fair amount of time, perhaps several generations, but I believe that change can and will occur. By continuing to discourage violence as a way to solve problems and to weed out those who take this road regardless, I will eventually create a society of people who do not even consider violence as an option. Kira's ideals will be passed down through the current society's descendants, again and again until it is ingrained into the world's culture and Kira himself will no longer be necessary."

"Ah, but Light, while you possess the powers of a Shinigami, you yourself are not immortal."

"I know that," Light replied with a light laugh. "I know I have the arrogant invincibility of youth, but believe it or not, I do realize I won't live forever."

Elijah gave him a small smile in return and asked simply, "Well then, what is your plan?"

"Kira already has many supporters worldwide. Many people who share my views and ideals. During my lifetime, I intend to find several of these people and train them, both to help me while I am alive and to carry on my work when I am gone."

"People like Miss Amane."

Light grimaced and shook his head. "No, I didn't pick Misa. She was never part of my plan. I'd kill her in an instant if I didn't need her Shinigami eyes."

"Ah, Light," the other man sighed gently. "Listen to yourself. You talk so easily of killing her. Wouldn't it be better, more just, to convince her to give up the Death Note, thereby erasing her memory, and then break up with her?"

Light flinched and looked away. For the first time since they started their discussion, there had been disappointment in Elijah's voice. And truthfully, he was right. Misa was inconvenient and annoying, but she didn't deserve to die because of that. Light had just become so used to solving his problems by killing people that he didn't feel like doing things the long way anymore.

"Breaking up with Misa isn't as easy as you make it sound," he argued, sounding even to himself like a petulant child.

"But you could do it," Elijah replied with a smile. "Your quick wit and smooth tongue can charm anyone. I'm sure you could find a way to cut ties with her if you tried hard enough."

"So you say," Light grumbled, "but I'd like to see _you_ try it." Straightening and turning to Elijah again, he stated, "We're getting off topic."

"True," the other agreed. "We were discussing you and your plan to find heirs to carry on Kira's work. Have you already begun looking?"

"Yes, although I haven't decided on anyone yet. I have a few candidates, but I'm still researching them."

"I see." Elijah began to lift his thumb to his mouth but stopped when he remembered what had happened the last time. Heaving a small sigh, he began twisting his fingers together in his lap instead. "You know, Light," he said in a soft voice, "I'm a bit surprised at you. You have thought enough about the future to consider what will happen after your own death, but it seems you have not realized that I had done the same." He lifted his eyes to Light's solemnly. "After all those times I spoke about my death, saying 'If I die, then Yagami-kun is Kira', did you really think that I wasn't actually prepared to die?"

Light exhaled slowly through his nose. "I see," he said eventually. "You also have heirs."

"Yes," Elijah replied. "And in spite of your efforts to keep L alive in the eyes of the world, they know about my death and they have begun their own preparations." He looked down at his hands and idly began to pick at his cuticles. "It will be some time before you meet them. Right now, they are just children. But children or no, they are both set on catching Kira, and I have no doubt that, with time, they will both be on your trail, hunting you. I am …" He raised his eyes again. "I am very worried for you, Light."

Light swallowed and said nothing. At Elijah's mention of new opponents, his familiar competitive streak had stirred, but the blond's final statement quelled the rising excitement. Those eyes held so much concern in them, such an open and honest feeling, that it made Light pause. Normally, he would wave off any anxiety about his well-being with detached disdain, but he respected Elijah too much to do it this time. If Elijah was truly worried for him, then perhaps, Light thought, he should take heed of it.

Realizing that the younger man did not intend to break the silence, Elijah continued, "My downfall was that I did not trust my instincts enough. I knew in my heart from the very beginning that you were Kira, but I let the lack of evidence keep me from acting. And as I stalled in my own indecision, I allowed you to get just far enough ahead of me that you were able to kill me. That will not happen with my successors, Light. They are young and brash, just like you, and they lack the experience with the legal system that will tie their hands with the need for formality and rules."

Light couldn't resist a snort at that. "Rules? You broke several yourself. Cameras and bugs in my house, keeping Misa and me confined for all that time …"

"You volunteered to be confined. It was your idea."

"And yet you didn't let me out when I asked you to."

"Which was part of your plan to clear yourself. You didn't _want_ me to let you out."

"Doesn't matter. You still held both of us against our will, and Misa's confinement was quite cruel, I might add."

"Due to the fact that she was suspected of being the second Kira."

"It was _inhuman_, Ryuzaki!"

They both stopped and stared at each other. Light couldn't believe that he had slipped; it had been so long since he had. Elijah looked equally stunned, and, as he sat there in shocked silence, one hand rose from his lap, heading directly towards its place of comfort. Seconds later, Elijah was spitting into the sink again, and Light was preparing another wet paper towel and fighting the urge to laugh.

"Dammit," Elijah commented once Light had finished wiping his mouth. "Couldn't you have picked a less disgusting method to start with?"

Light's eyes opened wide. "'Lij?"

"What?"

"You swore."

"And?" the older man growled, a challenging glower on his face. "I've had the taste of tabasco sauce in my mouth. Twice. I have the right to swear."

"Yes, but …"

"I can swear fluently in five different languages, I'll have you know."

Light gave up. Crossing his arms on the counter next to Elijah, he dropped his head onto them and laughed until his sides ached. The thought of Elijah swearing, in multiple languages no less, was just too funny. He laughed on and on because he simply couldn't stop, even though his eyes streamed with tears and his ribs pounded in pain. Finally, when he was gasping for each breath drawn into burning lungs, he managed to get control of himself and calm down. As he did so, he kept his head resting on his arms, too tired to move it right away.

Slowly, as he needed less and less concentration to breathe without hiccupping, Light became aware of fingers gently moving through his hair. The touch was light and slightly jerky, as if the person responsible didn't know exactly what he was doing, but it was consistent. His initial instinct was to bat the hand away, but he refrained from doing so and, gradually, began to almost enjoy the sensation. Elijah's inexperienced fingers were surprisingly soothing in their unpredictability.

After several minutes of content silence, the older man's quiet voice washed over the brunet's bowed head. "Such a lovely dream that Light has for this world. A world without violence and crime. A world without pain and suffering. A world of peace. Truly, a beautiful dream. But unfortunately, it is only a dream. Because even if you do manage to infuse your pacifist ideals into society, you cannot personally guarantee that every individual will have a happy and fulfilling life. Even you, Light, cannot eradicate sickness and poverty."

"Maybe not alone," Light murmured in reply. "But once I have established my new world, those who once dedicated their time to quelling violence will have the ability to focus on the problems that remain. Wait and see, 'Lij. It isn't just a dream."

"If you say so, Light."

"Mmm. By the way, Elijah?"

"Yes?"

"How much of the tabasco sauce have you successfully transferred to my hair?"

The fingers withdrew, and Light cracked open one eye to peer up at his friend. Elijah gazed down on him, a smile on his lips and his thumb happily stuck inside his mouth. The blond cocked his head a little and replied, "Enough."

Light sighed and straightened up to get the bottle and brush a second time.

* * *

A/N: My thanks to kasai tenshi for reminding me that, while Mello and Near didn't enter the manga/anime until 2009, they weren't just twiddling their thumbs during that time. (Eating chocolate and playing with toys, sure, but not twiddling thumbs.) 

I'm thinking I'll make the fingernail thing a mini-theme. I have a few ideas already, but if anyone has any "stop biting your nails" remedies, I'd love to hear them!


	7. Chapter 7

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Ah, Wednesday. Know why this is the day you finally get your update? Because my kids are _finally back in school!_ Woo hoo! Easter vacation plus sugar-high kids equals lots of noise and a pounding headache for Karai. Sigh.

Thank you for all the nail-biting remedy suggestions! I had heard of most of them, but some of them were new. Now, to implement them ...

BTW, I am not a member of Monty Python nor am I Dr. Seuss, so I don't own the stuff mentioned. You knew that, though.

**

* * *

**

Chapter 7

It was ironic, Elijah thought, how his afterlife had turned out. Ironic and a little bit sad. People everywhere dreamed of Heaven, sought it, reached for it, and spoke of it constantly. Even in colloquial speech: heaven on earth, a little slice of heaven, seventh heaven -- although what was wrong with the other six, he didn't know. When he had reached that fabled place, however, he had found it rather dull. Boring even. Truly a sad state of affairs. What made it ironic, though, was that right now he was wishing desperately that he could go back.

Right now, Elijah was in Hell.

"There. I'm done."

While Light gathered up the extra string, Elijah gazed mournfully at his hands.

"Light?"

"Hmm?"

"I hate you."

"I know."

"No, really. I despise you."

"Yes."

"Detest you."

"Okay."

"Abhor you."

"Good."

"Absolutely loathe you."

"Do you have a thesaurus in that brain of yours?" The evil brunet looked up from his cleaning to grin at his victim.

"No," Elijah answered, still looking at the latex gloves that covered him from fingertip to mid-forearm. They were _yellow_. And Light had made little bows in the string that circled his wrists. "Why did you have to tie them on?"

"So that you won't take them off," Light explained patiently, his tone as if speaking to a child. "I'm going to meet with Professor Trevaeki today to talk about the work I'll be doing this summer, and I don't want you biting your nails while I'm gone. While I'm sure you could manage to get them off, you won't be able to get them back _on_ without help, and if they're off when I get back, then you won't be getting any of the strawberry cake I plan to buy on my way home. And I've already told Julie not to help you."

"You are evil."

"I know."

Finished with his cleaning, Light began to pack his bag for his trip to campus. While he moved quietly around his new room, gathering supplies, Elijah sat on the bed and pouted. Sulked. Moped. Brooded.

Perhaps he did have a thesaurus in his head.

An idea suddenly occurred to him, and he held out his hands. "The string is cutting off my circulation," he lied.

Light didn't even blink. "No, it's not. I made sure to tie it with enough slack so that it wouldn't hurt, but tight enough that you can't slip them off."

"Did I mention that I hate you?"

"Yes."

"All right then."

As much as he didn't want to, Elijah had to give Light credit. The young man was determined. Last night, at the final dinner for their group before people began to go home for the summer, Light, Mark, and Annie had brainstormed for over thirty minutes. Seeing them like that with their heads close together at the end of the table, Elijah couldn't help but think that they were plotting his eventual doom. He hadn't been that far off, he realized now as he stared at his yellow-coated fingers.

"All right, I'm ready to leave." Light threw a look at Elijah over his shoulder as he stood in the doorway. "If you want to mope, I don't mind, but do it in your own room."

The suffering blond didn't particularly feel like being helpful at the moment, so he curled up a bit more tightly and glared at his friend through his bangs. "I don't want to move," he announced.

"I don't care," Light returned easily. "It's my room, and I say get out."

"Don't you trust me?" Elijah asked, sticking out his lower lip in a classic pout.

"Not even as far as I can throw you. Now move."

Grumbling mightily, Elijah began the process of uncurling himself and standing up, moving extra slowly just to annoy Light. Half to himself, he muttered, "It's not like I'm going to go searching through your room for the Death Note while you're gone. I don't play dirty like that."

"Sure you don't," Light replied with heavy sarcasm laced with amusement.

"That's right, I don't," Elijah continued, choosing to ignore the other's tone. "Unlike some people I know. Using bribery to get what he wants."

Shaking his head, Light grabbed Elijah's arm and began to manhandle him out the door. "It's called incentive," he argued. "A reward."

"It's _bribery_," the elder insisted.

"Fine," the younger conceded with a sigh. "It's bribery." He gave Elijah a mighty shove towards his own room at the end of the hall. "Now be a good boy and keep yourself entertained until I get back."

Elijah snorted fiercely. "What, killing me once wasn't enough for you? You just have to do it a second time?"

Light ignored him completely. Didn't even turn around for a goodbye or a wave. Fuming, Elijah stomped off to his room and slammed the door behind him. How the _hell_ was he supposed to entertain himself? He couldn't type with these stupid things on his hands, and he doubted he could use a pencil very well either. Instinctively, one hand rose to his mouth, but the scent of latex made him gag before it had even reached his lips. Irritated beyond belief, Elijah collapsed onto his bed and sulked viciously. Light was going to _pay_ for this.

Across his room, the phone rang. Elijah ignored it. One of his parents would pick it up. It wouldn't be for him anyway. Annie was on a plane, Mark was in his last final, and Ethan had called earlier in the day to say that he had arrived home safely. So whoever it was on the line, it would not involve him. He was free to sit there and perfect his sulk.

"Elijah? It's for you!"

He blinked at his mother's voice as it floated up the stairs. The phone call was for him? Really?

"Who is it?" he asked, raising his voice so that she could hear.

"That girl named Charlie."

Surprised, he jumped off of the bed and crossed to his desk. He had not heard from either Charlie or Lily since the impressive explosion in the middle of the living room on the day that Light had moved in.

"Charlie?" he demanded once he had picked up the receiver clumsily in his fingers. "Why are you calling me?"

The girl's bright voice laughed at him loudly, causing him to pull the phone a bit away from his ear. "Well, isn't that a nice way to greet someone! Hello to you, too, Elijah."

"I'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "I just wasn't expecting you to call today." _Or ever_, he added mentally.

"Ha ha!" she crowed, forcing him to move the receiver even farther from his ear. "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!"

Elijah blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Never mind. So look, are you busy today?"

"Not particularly. Why do you -- ?"

"Is that asshole there?" she interrupted.

"If you mean Light, then no, not right now. He should be back around -- ."

"Good. Lily and I are coming over, okay? We'll see you in a few."

"Wait a minute," he tried. "Charlie!" But she had hung up on him already. For several minutes, he simply stood there, staring at the dead phone between his fingers. Then, he walked calmly to his door and called down, "Mom! Tornado approaching!"

"Got it!" Julie called back, completely understanding him. "I'll keep an eye out for her."

Nodding to himself, Elijah wandered over to his bookshelf and looked for something to read to pass the time.

About ten minutes later, he heard the front door opening and the sound of pleasant chatter. Not particularly wanting to introduce a couple of females to his bedroom, Elijah quickly hurried down the stairs. Charlie stood in the hallway, laughing with Julie, while Lily hid partly behind her, looking for all the world like she wanted to be elsewhere.

"Heya, 'Lij!" Charlie grinned, waving at him in greeting. "Good to see you. You're looking skinny and pale as always, so I guess that's good. Sorry to barge in on you with such short notice, but you know me and spontaneity and all that and what the _hell_ do you have on your _hands_?"

While Elijah tried to hide the yellow gloves behind his back, Julie explained with a wide smile, "Light's trying to get him to stop chewing his fingernails. Today he has to keep those gloves on and not take them off or he doesn't get cake later on. Right, sweetheart?"

"Yes, mother," he mumbled, embarrassed and irritated.

"Seriously?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow. "That sucks." She shrugged and pushed forward, "Anyway, the reason why we came over and the reason why Lily-Mouse is trying to melt into the wall over here is because she would like to draw you, please Mr. McCormick, if you don't mind." She threw the last few phrases out off-handedly, grinning all the while.

Elijah raised his head and tried to catch Lily's eyes; she refused to lift them from the floor. "Draw me?" he echoed.

"That's right!" Charlie answered for her friend. "Specifically in that Halloween costume you had last year. Do you still have it?"

"Yes."

"Good. Go put it on." When he didn't move, she stepped forward and began shoving him towards the stairs. "Come on, go. Before she changes her mind and runs away. She's wanted to draw you in it ever since she saw the pictures that Kim brought back from the party, and it's taken me this long to convince her to come over and ask, so _go!_"

Elijah had the sinking feeling that he looked rather like a fish at that moment, what with his mouth repeatedly opening and closing. However, he couldn't help himself. Lily wanted to draw him? Lily, who really did draw quite well for an amateur and who had a wonderful muse in the wild, vibrant, and lovely Charlie? Him, with his vacant eyes and his bad posture and his messy hair? She wanted him to model for her? Stunned, he looked for her eyes again, and, while he could not catch a glimpse of them, he did see the red flush spreading over her cheeks, telling him that it was indeed true.

"All right," he announced, moving far enough away from Charlie that she could no longer push him. "I'm going. How much of the costume do you need? Just the wings or everything?"

At his question, Lily finally lifted her head and looked at him. Her face still burned and she looked like she wanted to bolt, but her voice came out surprisingly steady. "The wings, the belts, and the shirt, please. Those jeans will be fine, and I don't need the make-up or the wig. The colors are not as important as the draping of the fabric and the various angles and planes."

He nodded his understanding and turned to walk upstairs, but a sudden realization made him stop. Slowly, he lifted his hands and stared at the hated yellow gloves covering them. How was he supposed to change his shirt and put on belts when these things were in the way?

His mother answered his unspoken question by stepping up to his side and slipping her arm around his waist. "Come on, Elijah," she smiled. "I'll help." Before he could protest, she was pulling him up the stairs towards his room. He stopped struggling after a few moments. While he didn't like the thought of his mother undressing him like a child, he had the sneaking suspicion that if he didn't let Julie do it, Charlie would offer to help next. That was a situation he did _not_ want to have occur.

When he came downstairs again -- wincing every time the wings crashed into the walls -- he found that the small, shy girl had recovered completely. She had, in fact, gone into a kind of business mode. He watched in awe as she wandered around the living room, muttering to herself, and investigated various angles in relation to one of the straight-backed dining room chairs that she had placed in the middle of the floor. When he appeared, she immediately took his hand and guided him to the chair where she began to pose him like a doll. His right leg she lifted up to rest with the foot on the seat, but the left leg she kept with the foot on the ground. The right arm she draped across his lifted knee so that the hand dangled over the edge, and the left she positioned in his lap, in line with the horizontal thigh. After taking a step back and surveying her work, she moved around to his back and began to play with the wings, forcing them too to lie the way she wanted.

From the couch, Charlie grinned at him. "Isn't she awesome?" the blonde asked brightly. "She knows just what she wants and exactly how to get it."

"You've done this for her quite a bit yourself, haven't you?"

"Yeah, tons. Although," she added with a wave of her hand, "Lil memorized my planes and proportions ages ago, so I don't have to sit still for her anymore. Nowadays she asks me to run around. I haven't actually played movable statue for her for a long time."

Elijah smiled at the fond tone of Charlie's voice, but a sudden flash of sunlight into his eyes made him wince and squint.

"Sorry," Lily's voice said immediately from the other side of the room. He peered in that direction to find her messing with the window blinds, adjusting the amount of light that fell on him.

"Hey, Lil," Charlie called to her. "What are you gonna do about his hands?"

Lily shrugged. "Just draw them another time, I suppose. Elijah has such unique fingers that I don't want to substitute or give it my best guess." She seemed to finally have found a lighting that she liked for she moved over to one of the chairs and began to get her supplies out of her bag. "Perhaps Light will come home before I'm finished."

Her friend wrinkled her nose at the thought. "God, I hope not. If he does, I'm so out of here. I can't stand that prick."

"Charlie," Lily sighed tiredly, "I am not having this conversation with you. Again."

"What is it, the fifth time?"

"Try the seventh. Elijah, please don't move your hands."

Elijah frowned but did as he was told, carefully placing his right hand back in its previous location. He couldn't help it. He had found the easy interaction between the two women to be quite interesting, and his thumb had made a break for his mouth on its own. It never would have made it there, of course, because of the stupid gloves, but Lily's watchful eye had stopped it before it could move more than an inch.

"Am I allowed to move at all?" he asked with a hint of nervousness.

"Right now, no," she replied evenly, still giving off that business-like aura. Her pencil began to scratch across the sketchpad in her lap as she continued, "Once I'm done with the initial forms, however, I'll be concentrating on individual parts of your body so you'll be able to move the parts I'm not detailing. Within reason, of course." Her eyes lifted to him, and her brow suddenly furrowed. "Ah, I forgot to position your head. Could you lift your chin for me please? A bit more, as if you're looking up at the sky. No, now that's too much." She sighed, frustrated, but then an idea occurred to her and she brightened. "Charlie, would you go stand next to him? Elijah, look up at her face. There! Yes, perfect. No one move!" Her pencil began to fly across the paper in broad strokes.

Elijah grimaced, not particularly happy with the angle of his neck at the moment. He decided, however, to just deal with it for now. He rather liked this new side of Lily, and to be honest, being forced to stare into Charlie's pretty face wasn't all that bad. The girl in question was smiling at him quite nicely, although her eyes kept flicking downwards every few seconds at his hands.

"So," she asked eventually, "you're not going to have to wear those things all summer, are you?"

"I certainly hope not," he replied with feeling. "At the very least, they will cease to be effective when I get tired of being bribed or when Light runs out of money with which to buy bribery materials." Sighing, he began to tip his head to the side, but Charlie stopped him with a quick shake of her own head. After a quick side-glance to make sure he had not disturbed Lily, he continued, "Unfortunately, I am certain I will be subjected to a nail-biting treatment of some sort or the other all summer long."

"That seriously sucks," Charlie reiterated, frowning. "Breaking a habit like that is hard, dammit. If Light is going to torture you like this, he should be made to give up something, too. What bad habits does he have?"

Elijah caught himself before he could shrug and released another sigh instead. "None that I know of. He doesn't fidget in any way, knows how to keep his temper and hold his tongue, and could probably teach a course on proper etiquette."

But Charlie would not be deterred. "Then how about like giving something up for Lent? Does he overindulge on coffee? Chocolate? Booze?"

"Again, not that I know of."

She huffed and crossed her arms, creating a spike of jealousy in Elijah that she could move but he could not. "There has to be something," she insisted, half to herself. And then, slowly, her expression changed. The anger in her brows disappeared, and her lips curved up into a small smile. That familiar sparkle shone out from her eyes, but this time it had more than a bit of evil mischief in it. In fact, as Elijah watched her smile deepen and broaden and her eyes crinkle and gleam, he began to realize that this was an expression he never wanted directed at him. It reminded him of a program he had watched with Julie last Christmas, when the ugly green thing decided to dress up as Santa Claus. A face like that would make even Kira turn tail and flee like a screaming child.

Softly, she whispered to the little demons that just had to be flying about her, "I have an idea, and it's _perfect_!"

xXx

Light stood in the entrance to the living room, stunned. Elijah was in the middle of the room, wearing most of his Halloween costume from last year and sitting stock-still in a most ridiculous fashion. And _she_ was here, smiling at him in a disturbing way. The last time he had seen her, she had looked like she wanted to rip out all his internal organs and stomp on them in pointy-heeled shoes. Now, she was giving him a too-innocent, cavity-inducing smile that was somehow far more frightening than her fury.

"Hello, Light," she purred. "Welcome back."

"What --" he began, but his voice sounded too high and tight for his liking, so he swallowed and tried again. "What is going on in here?"

Thankfully, Elijah answered him in his normal, half-bored tone. "I am being preserved for posterity. Speaking of which, could you please come over here and remove these gloves?" His eyes darted over to Light as he continued, "I do hope that box you are holding is my cake. Considering I had to endure being undressed and redressed by my mother because of these _things_, I plan to eat the entire thing just as soon as Lily is done with me."

At the mention of the other girl, Light finally noticed her sitting across the room, working intently at her sketchpad. Her presence instantly explained Elijah's strange outfit and the appearance of Charlie. No longer confused, Light released the breath he had been holding and smiled.

"Yes, it's your cake," he replied to Elijah. "Let me put it in the kitchen, and then I'll come take off the gloves."

"Very well, but haste would be appreciated."

A few minutes later, Light knelt on the ground in front of Elijah, carefully undoing the knots he had tied earlier that day. The older man had warned him not to disturb the positioning of his hands under pain of Lily's wrath. Light truly doubted the quiet young woman had any wrath to speak of, but despite that he took his time and tried not to move Elijah's hands as he removed the gloves. Secretly, he was quite proud of Elijah for enduring this trial. He had half expected to find the gloves off or the knots undone when he returned.

"Hey, Light," Charlie said when he had stood up and moved away, gloves in hand, "I want to talk to you."

"Is that so?" he returned, trying to hide his apprehension. She had been watching him the entire time with sharp, intent eyes. Like a lioness observing a future kill or a juicy piece of meat. It had unnerved him, cutting into his normally unruffled composure.

"Yeah."

"What about?"

She grinned. "Kira."

_Of course_. Light huffed and crossed his arms, staring down his nose at her in contempt. "Whatever for?" he demanded. "I support Kira. That simple piece of information was enough to send you in a blind fury and denounce me. I see no reason to have a discussion with you after that display."

Charlie's smile did not falter in the slightest. "I'll behave myself," she promised, raising a hand as if in a pledge. "And Lily's here to hold me back if I get too crazy. I only wanted to ask you a couple of questions. That's it."

"You might as well give in to her, Light," Lily said, breaking her silence. "If you don't today, she'll just harass you tomorrow and every following day until you do."

Light sighed and ran a hand tiredly through his hair. "Fine." He walked over to the couch, placed the gloves on the end table, and settled down with his legs crossed. "Ask your questions."

"All right!" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her own legs, almost as if the two of them were British gentlemen relaxing together over brandy and cigars. "First, do you think, like a bunch of people do, that Kira is a god?"

Light blinked. With the first mention of Kira, his mind had begun to construct the eventual conversation and had formed proper responses that would direct the flow of the discussion in the way he wanted. But this question he had not expected, certainly not first. Once again, this woman had confused him with her strange unpredictability. It made him feel ill at ease; he hated it.

Quickly, he adjusted his thoughts to this new line of questioning and answered, "No, I don't. Even if he has somehow acquired a god-like ability to kill without being present, I don't think that Kira is a god in the sense that he is immortal or omniscient."

The fake grin slid off of Charlie's face at his statement, and she tipped her head at him with a more genuine smile. "I'm surprised," she confessed. "I thought you would. But I'm glad you don't. It shows that you do have some sense in you after all." When Light visibly bristled at that, she laughed lightly and continued, "It's pretty obvious if you look at the facts that Kira is human. For one thing, he makes mistakes."

Light's irritation at the insult to his intelligence died in the face of this new statement. "Mistakes?" he repeated. "How so?"

His opponent brightened and sat up straighter. "Well, my favorite example is this: Back in the 1960's, the FBI wanted to crack down on organized crime, and they relied heavily on their informers. However, the informers, being not so nice people themselves, would sometimes lump in an innocent person that they considered a threat or held a grudge against. Sometimes, the informers themselves would commit a crime and blame it on a completely unrelated person. The FBI, not wanting to lose their informers, turned a blind eye at this and sent innocent people to jail. Their lawyers have been fighting for them for decades, and now, finally, some of them are being released. Completely innocent people, wrongly accused and convicted, are getting justice at last." Charlie paused and leveled her gaze directly onto Light. In a strong tone, she announced, "Kira has killed three of these innocents so far. Who knows how many he'll kill before they can all get out?"

Taken aback, Light took a moment to respond, allowing Elijah to cut in ahead of him. "That does not prove that Kira is human, however. Only that he relies on the media to get his information which proves that he is not omniscient."

Charlie considered this a moment before agreeing. "True. Or it proves that he works for the FBI," she added with a laugh.

Light's stomach dropped. Sure enough, Elijah replied immediately. "No, he doesn't work for the FBI. He killed twelve of their agents."

Charlie and Lily both stared at Elijah for a moment in surprise. "How do you know that?" Charlie finally asked.

"Julie conducted a personality profile of Kira last year," he answered easily. "While I did not participate, I did examine some of the data. The agents were hired by L to tail various suspects, and they all died of heart attacks soon after." For a brief moment, his empty blue eyes sought and found Light's gaze, but then they fled again, leaving the younger man to wonder why Elijah had not mentioned that Light had been the one to supply the data.

"Well," Charlie said, after a moment to process this new information, "that proves something else, doesn't it? That Kira can feel threatened. That he can fear the possibility of being discovered. _That_ makes him mortal which makes him human."

"How so?" Light countered, more out of a sense of perfectionism than to prove her wrong. "It could simply have been a message to those trying to catch him that anyone who tries to stop him will be punished."

"Then why is L still alive?" Charlie argued, returning her focus to him sharply. "If he's immortal, then he has no need to fear for his life and should have left the agents alone. If he wants to make the statement you're suggesting, it should be a grand movement that all the world will see, not some hidden murders like these."

"L is still alive because his name is unknown."

Light snapped his head to his best friend, dumbfounded. Had Elijah just come to his defense? Why would he do something like that? Hadn't he been the one to suggest to Charlie that she attack him like this?

"Then not L," she had continued, "but still, it should have been someone well-known. There are still a lot of people in high government offices who disapprove of Kira. Killing them would make a much more potent statement. So I'm sticking to my guns on this one. Kira is human."

"I would have to agree," Elijah added. He flicked his eyes over to the brunet once more. "What about you, Light?"

Light frowned at the blond's seemingly vacillating support. Angrily, he answered, "I haven't argued that point from the very beginning. I was merely trying to make her reasoning more airtight."

"You've done well then. Good job."

"A personality profile …"

Three heads turned in surprise to regard the fourth occupant of the room who had said very little until then. She had stopped drawing for the moment, resting the eraser end of her pencil against her cheek in an expression of deep thought. Noticing she had the others' attentions, she smiled a little and continued on in her soft voice.

"I think Kira has the mentality of a small child. That kind of innocence and belief in how the world should work versus how it actually does. I also think that he was sheltered growing up, probably a very good life, full of affection, wanting for nothing. Only someone who had grown up like that could believe in such things as good and evil. Only then could he live a life of fairy tales and have such little knowledge of reality."

Light's anger was burning. He didn't know which was worse: Charlie's in-your-face vilification of his ideals or Lily's calm and quiet insults that shot straight for his heart. With tight control over his voice, he replied, "I'm sorry, Lily, but I don't agree. We've established that Kira gets his information from the media, and all you have to do is watch the news for one day to understand the reality of our world."

Lily blinked at his rebuttal. "Oh," she said with a small gasp, "that's not what I meant. I've confused you. I'm sorry, Light, but sometimes I'm not as clear as I need to be."

"What did you mean then, Lil?" Charlie asked, leaning back in her seat and encouraging her friend with a smile.

Lily took a breath and explained, "When I say that he has no knowledge of the real world, I don't mean the events that occur. I mean the people of the world. In fairy tales and storybooks, one side is always good and the other evil. There are no in betweens. But the world we live in is not so clear cut as that. The world is not black and white. People are full of grays, and even as we live and grow, the shading of those grays change and develop." She sought Light's eyes anxiously. "Does that make more sense?"

"I suppose …"

At his hesitance, she put aside her pencil and began flipping through her sketchbook. "Let me try again. The world Kira wants for us is like this." She turned the book around and showed him a blank piece of paper. "The whole world is white," she explained. "Everyone is that idealistic good that we read about as children. Now, the world that Kira sees is like this." She flipped to the sketch of Elijah that she had been working on. The black lines that formed him jumped out from the white background of the paper. "The only things in this world are black and white. Just the extremes. A person is good or he is evil. Nothing in between. But the _real _world is like this." She showed the picture of Charlie at bat, now finished with realistic shading and lighting. "There is black and there is white, but there is also gray. Lots of gray of varying degrees. And really," she finished, lowering the pad to her lap, "this world is the most interesting and the most beautiful."

"All right," Light acknowledged, "I can see your point now, and I agree with it somewhat, but I don't agree with the last thing you said. How can a world that contains black and gray be preferable to one that is only white? How can you wish evil in any degree into the world?"

"Because," she replied, lifting her head to look at him straight on, "we are not the artist. You and I live in this world. We are merely points on this piece of paper. We can see the colors immediately surrounding us, but the larger things -- the figures, the shading -- those we can never comprehend because our viewpoint is so small. The only one who can see everything and appreciate everything is the artist, the one who created it."

"By which she means God, of course," Charlie cut in with an airy wave of her hand. "It's a pretty analogy and works very well if you're religious. Unfortunately, I'm not." Her eyes moved to Light and she winked. "Got a feeling you aren't either." In a sudden burst of action, she clapped her hands and leapt to her feet. Pointing her finger at Light, she announced, "This line of conversation has led perfectly to my next question. Ready for it, Mr. Yagami?"

He sighed and cradled his head in one hand. "If I said no, would it make a difference?"

"Absolutely none. Here it is: Would you classify me as a criminal?"

"What?" Light lifted his head and stared at Charlie. She had planted her hands on her hips and stood with spread legs in a pseudo-pose. At his confused stare, she simply smiled and waited for his answer which he eventually gave. "Of course not. You are loud and annoying, but that isn't against the law in any country that I know of."

Her smile deepened into something slightly sad. "But stealing is," she said.

Before Light could question her, Charlie relaxed her stance and launched into her explanation. "I didn't grow up in a nice comfy house like the rest of you. I grew up in a trailer. It was the only thing that Dad left Mom when he up and left her. The trailer and three kids. We were poor, _dirt_ poor. After paying for utilities and necessities, Mom made enough for two decent meals a day. Everything else we needed, we got from dumpster diving. You know what that is, rich boy?"

Subdued, Light nodded. Of course he knew that such poverty existed, but he had never before talked with someone who had endured it. Had never heard it discussed with almost a kind of pride in the speaker's voice.

"When I was eleven," Charlie continued, "things got worse. Our decent meals got not so decent. I got used to being hungry all the time. And then, one night, I woke up to the sound of Mom crying. On her way home, someone had mistaken her for a whore and propositioned her. She set him straight, of course, but it had gotten her to thinking. She told me that she was actually wondering if whoring wouldn't bring in more money for us, so that my brothers and I wouldn't have to suffer so much." Charlie snorted and tossed her head. "I talked her out of that right quick. But the next day, I went out to the farmers' market and shoplifted for the first time. If it had been just me, I could have tightened my belt and shut my mouth. But my little brothers were too young to fully understand. When they got hungry, they whined. So I decided I'd find a way to keep them happy and keep some of the pressure off of Mom."

Her bright eyes found Light's and held them as she announced, "For two years, I went out every couple of days and nicked food. Mostly fruit and vegetables, but I did manage to get the occasional loaf of bread or hunk of cheese. I got caught a few times, but I never got arrested. And the _fear_ of being arrested didn't stop me. It didn't even slow me down. My family needed that food far more than the sellers did, and when I did have a little money to spend, I always spent it on one of the ones I had stolen from anyway as a kind of apology. When I was fourteen, things got better and I stopped. And when I was fifteen, we finally had enough for a house, an honest-to-God _house_ with multiple rooms and a real shower and a yard and everything, and at that point, I focused all my energy on getting a full scholarship to a good school so that I can support my family and make it so they never have to worry about going hungry again."

She paused and took a few steps toward Light, closing the distance between them. "So, Light," she asked with a cocky grin, "what do you think? Am I deserving of Kira's justice?"

Light swallowed with difficulty. He did not like where this was heading. "Kira doesn't kill shoplifters," he murmured. _Although I have killed a purse snatcher before_, he realized with growing horror. _When I was trying to shake off L_. Concerned, he shot a glance in Elijah's direction to see if the older man would bring up that fact, but Elijah was sitting calmly, watching Charlie with sympathetic interest.

The girl in front of him took another step forward and leaned down a bit so that they were almost eye to eye. "Hypothetically, though," she persisted, "one of those times that I had been caught, if there had been a struggle and I had accidentally killed someone, do you think Kira would judge me? Do you think I would deserve to die?"

With her face hanging directly in front of him, curtains of blonde hair framing it on either side, Light knew he'd never be able to find his voice well enough to reply to those questions. The answer to the first one he knew well enough. Yes, Kira would have judged her. He would have noted the fact that it was accidental, but he also would have seen her as a small-time criminal, a multiple offender, and would have decided to get rid of her before she could mature into a more dangerous person and do more damage to others. The second question was much harder. If he had been presented with merely the facts of the situation, like he always was, he would have said yes. But sitting there with Charlie's sparkling eyes gazing questioningly into his, he suddenly found that his resolve was fading away and every time he tried to grab it, it slipped right through his fingers. Would she have deserved to die? She had committed crimes, yes, but she had done it to prevent her mother from committing a much worse one. If she hadn't stolen, would her little brothers have grown up tainted and twisted by their hunger and need and turned to more violent crimes when they were older? Did the end justify the means in her case? In any case? How should he view this in relation to the law, ethics, and morality?

Light just didn't know.

"Let him be, Charlie," Elijah spoke quietly, coming to his rescue and relieving the panic that he didn't realize had been building. "Light grew up sheltered in a world of fairy tales and storybooks, just as Lily said. It will take him some time to become accustomed to your world."

Charlie stood up, breaking the tension that had surrounded Light, and gave Elijah a small smile. "I see," she said quietly before moving away.

"So many grays," Lily breathed to herself as Charlie returned to her seat. "Of all degrees and variations. Such a complicated, beautiful world."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 8**

Light successfully resisted the urge to slam the door behind him as he entered his room. While the violent sound might have eased some of his anger, it also would have alerted Julie to his emotional state and he didn't want the woman directing her active maternal instinct at him. Instead, he sat down heavily in his desk chair and banged his fists on the wood once before cradling his head in his hands.

That _damn_ woman. She had rattled him, and Light _hated_ feeling rattled. Why couldn't she have kept on refusing to have anything to do with him? He had been rather relieved to know that she would be out of his life. Unfortunately it now seemed that here in America, just like back in Japan, he would have to deal with a loud, irritating blonde constantly poking her nose into his business. At least Misa approved of Kira.

Growling, Light retrieved the Death Note from its hiding place and slapped it onto the desk. A short flick of the mouse brought his computer to life, and he quickly found his favorite databases. A few judgments would calm him down and make him feel better, he reasoned. While his fingers reached for a pen, he decided on the first name -- a murderer with suspected ties to the Mafia -- and flipped open the notebook with his other hand, ready to begin.

_Who knows how many innocents Kira will kill before they can all get out?_

The tip of the pen hovered over the paper, hesitating. Light breathed shallowly through his mouth for several heartbeats, trying to rid himself of the alien feeling that had gripped his chest. So what if he had accidentally killed innocents? He had intentionally killed innocents as well, to protect himself. Besides, the number of guilty scum he had punished far outweighed the number of unfortunate souls who had been sacrificed for the greater good. Their deaths were regrettable, but they were necessary for Light to create his paradise. His utopia where all good and innocent people could live without fear. Where all innocents could live … without fear …

"Tch, fine then," he muttered to himself, dropping the pen momentarily. A few mouse clicks and keyboard taps brought up a website that broadcast current news. Light clicked around for a bit before finding a story he liked: a thief that had resisted arrest and taken flight had struggled with an officer and pushed the other man off of a four story building. Picking up his pen once more, he bent down over the Death Note and prepared to write.

_Hypothetically, if I had accidentally killed someone, do you think Kira would judge me? Do you think I would deserve to die?_

"_Dammit!_" Light swore, throwing the pen across the room. Why wouldn't that woman and her damn questions leave him alone? He couldn't believe this. He was Kira, Ruler Absolute, God of the New World. His word was law, his judgment final. But thanks to that stupid female, he was actually _second-guessing_ himself. And if there was anything Light hated more than feeling rattled, it was thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a slight possibility that he had actually made something that resembled a mistake.

Snarling, he slammed the notebook shut.

A light knock interrupted his fuming.

"Who is it?" he snapped.

"Your conscience," Elijah's voice answered. "I thought perhaps we could have a chat, unless I need to make an appointment."

"Go away."

"Oh, so I do need to make an appointment?"

Light shot up from his chair and stormed across the room. He had intended to yell viciously at Elijah, but once he wrenched open his door, he paused. The blond stood there with a plate of cake, his fork hanging from his mouth and his eyes blinking innocently. The quiet friendliness in the other man's expression calmed Light's anger, and, instead of screaming, he found himself leaning against the doorframe and offering a half-hearted smile.

"What did you want anyway?" he asked, suddenly tired.

Elijah retrieved the fork from his mouth before answering, "I already told you. I'd like to have a chat."

"Whatever for?" Light returned immediately. "You finally have your cake, and I've finally escaped from your attack bitch. You let me have some peace, and I'll let you enjoy that cake without bothering you. Sounds like a fair deal to me."

He moved to shut his door again, but Elijah's reply stopped him. "Contrary to what you may think, I did not sic Charlie on you. Her assault this afternoon was entirely her own idea. I was hoping to chat with you to assess what effect, if any, she made and thereby decide with which side I should ally myself."

"Ally yourself?" Light echoed, skeptical. "You mean, you'd come over to my side? Just like that?"

"In your argument with Charlie, perhaps," the other answered. "After all, she and I may have the same eventual goal, but we have different views on how to obtain it. It is not in fact always true that the enemy of my enemy is my friend." He gave Light a small smile before spearing another piece of cake for himself. "Tho," he asked around his new mouthful, "'ay I co'e ig?"

Elijah's child-like expression dispelled the last of Light's anger, and he laughed as he stepped aside. "Yes, you may come in, but don't get any crumbs on my bed."

"I will do my best." He shuffled over to Light's desk chair instead. Too late, Light realized that the Death Note still lay in plain view. However, instead of instigating a bitter confrontation like Light expected, Elijah simply lifted an eyebrow at the black notebook before settling into the chair. "I see I interrupted you," he commented blandly. "I apologize."

"No," Light replied quickly, striding over to the book, "I'm finished for the day." In one swift, fluid motion, he opened a random drawer and dumped the book into it.

"Really?" Elijah questioned, not bothering to watch the notebook disappear. "That's too bad. Someday, I would rather like to see you use it."

Light paused in shutting the drawer to look up at him in surprise. "You would?" he asked. "Why is that?"

Elijah began to smear a bit of icing around his plate as he answered, "I would like to watch your face as you kill your victims. I have met many murderers in the past and I have observed a few as they spoke about their actions, but I have never been present as one person took the life of another person." Laying down the fork, he scooped up the icing with his finger and brought it to his mouth. With his eyes on the ceiling and his finger between his lips, he continued, "It has been over a year since I last watched you kill, and that was always through the lens of one of Heaven's cameras. I am curious to see if there has been any change in your attitude since the establishment of our friendship. I rather doubt there will be, even if I am present while you use the Death Note, but I'd like to see for myself."

A shudder threatened to seize Light's spine, but he caught it before it could move. The thought of Elijah watching him use the Death Note was extremely disturbing for some reason. "Well, sorry to disappoint you," he said tightly, "but I'm done for the day."

"So you said."

"And you said you wanted to chat. About what?"

"Ah." Elijah straightened a bit and set the now-empty plate on Light's desk with a gentle clink. "I wanted to discuss the very interesting arguments presented by Miss Moskowitz this afternoon and see, now that she is no longer present to interrupt you, what your reactions were to them."

Light shrugged one shoulder and moved away from the desk to sit on his bed. "I have no reactions worth discussing," he lied. Then, truthfully, he continued, "Being poor does not excuse her theft, nor does it hinder her in her competition with Misa to claim the title of 'Most Annoying Creature in Existence'. Her life story is irrelevant to the case you are both trying to make, as are her theories on Kira's identity." Running a hand through his hair tiredly, he concluded, "The entire conversation was a waste of time."

To his surprise, Elijah did not immediately respond. He simply sat there for a moment with a little smirk on his face. Finally, after Light had prompted him with a deliberate glare and raised eyebrow, he asked, "Do you really find her on the same annoyance level as Miss Amane?"

"Yes," Light replied with a harsh grimace. "I do."

"Interesting," Elijah chuckled. His gaze wandered away to a spot out the window. "I wonder …"

"What do you wonder?" the younger man demanded. He didn't like the tone in the other's voice at all.

"Well," came the amused reply, "your relationship with Charlie differs from your relationship with Misa in that the strong dislike you feel for her is returned just as intensely. This setup is one that is often found in romances, I believe. Something along the lines of there being a fine line between hate and love."

Light's eyes narrowed. "You have _got_ to be kidding me," he growled. When blue eyes turned to him with a blank look of innocence, his handsome face scrunched up into an ugly sneer. "How could you think for a second that I would be even remotely attracted to that bitch?"

Elijah blinked. "Am I not allowed to tease my best friend about women?" he asked calmly. "You are always teasing me about my supposed interest in Lily, after all."

"At least you and Lily would make a nice couple."

"You don't think you and Charlie would make a nice couple?"

"'Lij, don't _make_ me hurt you."

Clearly not frightened by the threat, Elijah went back to staring out the window, a little smile hovering over his lips. "I'm afraid I disagree with your assessment," he stated, returning to their earlier discussion. "I do not think this afternoon was irrelevant or a waste of time. In fact, I think the story we heard leads very nicely into a discussion of the definition of innocence."

Light sighed and took a moment to compose himself. He really disliked the way Charlie -- or in this case, just the mention of her -- could unnerve him so badly. He needed to be on guard around Elijah now since their battles would be frequent and unexpected. If his emotions ran hot and his mind remained disorganized like this, he would surely lose badly in any confrontation with the calmer, more collected man.

Once he was satisfied in his preparations, Light engaged. "I don't see a need for such a discussion. The definition of innocence is clear. If you did not commit the crime, you are innocent. If you did, you are guilty."

"In terms of the law, yes," Elijah agreed, bringing his eyes around to look at the brunet. "You are absolutely correct if we limit ourselves to that single viewpoint. And I must confess that when I lived as L, I also limited myself to that definition. When you live for the law, you cannot allow yourself to think of innocence and guilt in any other way or you will find it difficult to perform your job." One hand detached from its grip around his knees and lifted to his face. He began to push his lower lip back and forth as he continued, "However, in terms of morality, I believe the concept of innocence is more complicated. Charlie demonstrated that to us quite nicely this afternoon. If we remove the occurrence of a crime from the law and examine it as an event committed by a human being, then the definition of innocence becomes multi-faceted and worthy of intricate dissection."

"If you would like to do so," Light said, crossing his arms, "go right ahead. I, however, am not interested in such worthless philosophizing. Motivations and circumstances do not negate or diminish the adverse effect the crime itself has on others. And 'Lij," he added, lifting a hand to point at his friend, "I'm watching that thumb of yours. If it goes into your mouth, the gloves are going back on."

Elijah jerked his hand away from his face as if it had burned him. With a frown, he scolded, "Light, this conversation is very important. Surely you should be paying attention to my arguments and not my fingers."

"I can pay attention to both," Light insisted with a smirk. "My eyes can watch your fingers while my ears listen to your so-called arguments, and my brain is talented enough to process the sensory input from both. Although," he offered, the smirk widening, "if you would like my undivided attention, I can always go get the gloves right now."

Elijah shuddered slightly as his hand regripped his knees. "Fine," he muttered, still frowning although it was beginning to resemble a pout. "I will endeavor to keep my hands away from my face --"

"Good."

"-- because I think your self-assessment is incorrect. Your brain, while certainly talented, is not prepared to handle a debate with me while also staying alert for any reason to spring on me and inflict your torture."

Light bristled and his body stiffened in surprise. "Excuse me? What evidence do you have to support that statement?"

The blond's face cleared, and his eyes found Light's. Their normally-empty depths flickered with a trace of evil amusement. "My evidence," he replied quietly, "is your own words. You stated you are not interested in motivations and circumstances."

"And I'm not," Light insisted, beginning to feel annoyed. "I'm only interested in punishing the guilty."

The amusement flared. "I thought you were interested in administering _justice_, Light."

Light paused. Suddenly, he saw exactly where Elijah was going with this line of conversation, and he realized he had argued himself into a corner. His mind began to work frantically to find an escape route, but Elijah pressed on, not giving him the time to think.

"The concept of justice hinges on two things: what is morally right and what is deserved. Neither of these things can be determined solely on the knowledge of whether or not the person committed the crime he or she is accused of. They _require_ the inclusion of motivations, circumstances, and other internal and external pressures. Deciding what punishment is _deserved_ cannot be accomplished simply through dispassionate examination of the event itself. That is the difference between a pronouncement of guilt and the administration of justice."

In an attempt to regain the upper hand, Light stated, "I administer justice for the sake of the victims."

"Then your justice is one-sided," Elijah returned immediately. "It is biased and prejudiced and is therefore not justice at all." He smirked. "You are the prosecuting attorney, Light, not the judge."

Light snarled. He had had enough. First the girls and now Elijah. Attacks and insults from all sides. All in an attempt to shame him into admitting that he and his perfect world were somehow wrong. Well, it wouldn't work; Light Yagami didn't know the meaning of the word 'shame'. And he didn't have to take this shit from the other man. Not when Light literally held the other's life in his hands.

"Get out," he ordered.

Elijah blinked, surprised. "What?"

"Get out. I'm tired of listening to you insult me under the guise of a debate. You stated you'd be willing to listen to my side and consider joining my cause, but so far all you've done is twist my words and throw them back at me in an attempt to make me angry and defensive. I'm sick of it, and since this is my room, I have the right to throw you out. So _get out!_"

Slowly, Elijah unfolded himself from the chair. As bare feet hit the floor and hands sank deeply into pockets, he said gently, "I am sorry, Light. I didn't realize my words would upset you."

Unfortunately, his apology did nothing to appease Light's anger. "Bullshit," he responded in a hard tone. "I know you, and I know you never say anything without first calculating exactly what the response will be. If you want to go back to hiding your true thoughts and intentions behind overly-layered questions and declarations, go right ahead, but don't insult my intelligence by suggesting that that isn't what you're doing. Now get out before I decide to come toss you out."

For a moment, Elijah simply stood there, but then he began to move towards the door as bidden. Convinced that his order would be obeyed, Light leaned his elbows on his knees and allowed his anger to cool and dissipate. A deep sadness took its place without warning. To his shock, Light found his hands trembling and his vision slightly blurred. A hole was opening up inside him again, growing wider with each soft footstep upon the carpet. A terrible sense of loss and loneliness.

Giving in to the emotion within him, only half-realizing that he spoke aloud, Light whispered, "I wish Elijah would come back to me."

The footsteps stopped. The other man's puzzled voice floated to him from the hallway. "What do you mean, Light? I'm right here."

Light lifted his head and gazed at the figure in the doorway. At those empty eyes -- cold, accusing, ever-watchful. At that straight-lipped mouth -- never smiling, weaving webs and traps with soft-spoken words. At the hunched form, the sloppy appearance, the surrounding dark aura. He gazed at the other and looked for kindness, humor, joy. He looked for it, searched, and came up empty.

Slowly, Light rose to his feet. "No," he said in a low voice. He crossed the room to his open door and grasped the wood in his hand. "You're not Elijah." Ignoring the confused blink from those terrible eyes, he ripped down his defenses and let his pain control him for the briefest moment as he screamed, "You're goddamn _Ryuzaki!_" before slamming the door in the other's face.

A minute passed, and Light stood there, one hand held against the door, listening to his own heart beat. A second minute passed. A third.

Outside, bare feet shuffled, moved, and gradually faded away.

Down the hall, another door creaked open and then clicked shut.

Light inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.

The hole within him gaped, but slowly, ever so slowly, he filled it with rage and resolve. His fingers, splayed out against the wood, curled into a fist, nails scratching as they descended. His head rose. His breathing evened. He walked over to his desk and removed the Death Note from the drawer.

As he opened the book and found a pen, he continued to feed the cold anger inside him with words of confidence. He was right. He was just. He was Kira. He was _God_. He was …

He was …

Alone.

xXx

When Elijah unexpectedly found his nose a mere inch from the wood of Light's bedroom door, it took him several moments to realize what had happened. Once he had, he took a few steps backwards, turned, and walked down the hall to his own room. After shutting the door behind himself, he wandered over to the window, grabbing his swivel chair on the way past, and settled down in front of it to watch the evening sky. The entire time, Light's voice echoed in his head -- a single word that resonated through all the corners of his mind, rebounding off of the walls to soar through to the other side, ringing over and over through his head, like bells.

Ryuzaki.

Sighing, Elijah dipped his chin and closed his eyes. He had pushed Light too hard. He had known that Charlie's upfront offensive would put the young man on alert and raise his defenses, but he had not expected the result to be so severe. He had miscalculated, and now he had more than likely lost ground instead of gaining it.

Depression crept into his chest and began to slide down his arms and rise into his head to settle behind his eyes. Elijah went back to staring out the window, but the world outside would not stay in focus long enough to hold his interest. His head began to feel heavy. His thoughts slipped away, leaving him with only blank emptiness. It was a strange feeling. Part of him craved sugar, but another part of him was whining that all it wanted to do was curl up and … sleep.

He blinked to himself at the thought. He wanted to sleep? Surely he couldn't be _that_ depressed. But even as he tried to discard the idea, his gaze wandered over to his bed. Julie had removed the extra blankets from his days of convalescence, but most of the pillows remained and they really were quite soft and fluffy. Telling himself he was only doing it for comfort, he rose from his chair, crossed to the bed, and curled up on top of the covers with one pillow under his head, one against his back, and one clutched in his arms in the small space between his chest and drawn-up legs.

Light's anger at him would fade. Of course it would. And when it did, he would have to have a new plan of attack, one that was more carefully constructed and more oblique in its movements. Elijah told himself this, but for some reason he couldn't get his mind to begin preparations for that plan. He tried to think, but everything was too foggy and Light's angry voice was still haunting him. Still floating through his mind in faint echoes, making it impossible to form anything coherent.

Disheartened, Elijah closed his eyes …

…

_Elijah?_

…

_'Lij, come on now. Wake up._

…

"Your mother says it's time to wake up and eat something, so wake up already!"

Groaning slightly, Elijah forced his thick eyelids to move. They slowly cracked open, revealing a brighter and much more alert pair of brown eyes directly in front of him, staring at him sideways.

"Well, it's about time," the owner of the eyes stated. Smirking slightly, he asked, "Since when do you sleep so soundly? And in the middle of the day, too. Are you sure you're Elijah?"

"Light?" Elijah croaked, his voice hoarse. "Why are you in my room?"

"Because your mother sent me up to get you," the younger man replied as he sat back on his heels, removing his face from Elijah's personal space. He had been kneeling next to the bed, but now he rose to his feet and sat down on the edge, keeping a respectful distance between them. "You missed dinner," he informed the sleepy blond, "but Julie is keeping a plate for you. I'm to encourage you to go down and eat. She also asked me to bring this up." He lifted his hand and displayed the sudoku book it held. "You left it downstairs."

Elijah placed his hands on the bed and carefully pushed himself into a sitting position. He grumbled quietly, "I left it downstairs so I could work on it downstairs."

"Well, she wants it upstairs," Light answered. "So where do you want it?"

Sighing, Elijah lifted a hand and rubbed the pads of his fingers against his forehead as if that could somehow clear the fog in his head. This was why he didn't like sleeping. It always took far too long for his brain to return to its normal sharpness. "My desk," he replied to Light, that question easy enough to answer at least. "Just pick a drawer."

The brunet nodded and rose. Before he reached the desk, however, Elijah's brain finally woke up enough to ask, "Does this mean you're speaking to me again?"

Light paused. After a moment of silence, he replied without turning around, "I never said I wasn't speaking to you. However, I do not approve of the methods you've been using. This is supposed to be a competition, not a fight, and yet today from the moment I came home, I've been under constant attack. The whole reason I agreed to move in here was because you assured me this kind of thing wouldn't be happening."

Elijah ran his gaze over Light's back -- the slightly hunched shoulders, the locked elbows, the stiff muscles. "You're right," he said.

Light whirled around to stare at him in surprise. "I'm what?"

A small smirk crept into the older man's lips at the younger's disbelief. "You're right," he repeated. "While I cannot control Charlie's actions, I should not have let her tactics influence mine. It will not happen again."

"First sleeping and now admitting you were wrong. Are you sick?"

Elijah rolled his eyes. "Just put that book away," he ordered with a lazy wave of his hand. As Light moved to comply, Elijah rolled his shoulders and shook out his arms a bit. He had several strange pinches and tingles in his body from his sleeping position, and they were most annoying. If this is what a daytime nap did to his muscles, he definitely would not be taking another one any time soon --

"Hey, 'Lij?" Light's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"What are these?"

Elijah lifted his head to find the other man holding his stack of printouts with a carefully blank expression on his face. Mentally, he smacked himself. He should have steered Light away from that drawer, and if he had been more awake, he would have. Yet another thing to blame on this stupid depression-induced nap. He could handle this unexpected twist, however; all he had to do was rein in his attack instinct.

"Those," he answered in a neutral tone, "are innocents."

"I see." Light wandered over to the bed again, leafing through the papers as he did so. "Did you hack into the investigation database for these?"

"Yes."

"And your overseers allowed it?"

"Apparently."

As he sat down, Light commented, "I'm surprised you didn't bring these with you to my room for your most recent assault."

"To be honest, they would have made it more difficult to carry the cake."

Light laughed, and the sound washed over Elijah, easing the small pieces of stress and worry that lingered in his mind. Unfortunately, Light's laughter also brought a new wave of sadness to Elijah's heart. He enjoyed that sound so much, but for his own sake he could not allow himself to become entangled in it. It was such a fine line that he currently walked -- keeping Light close enough to interact with him but using those interactions to push him and chip at his resolve. He couldn't allow the comfort of Light's friendship and the fear of falling tempt him down off of that tightrope before he had reached the other side.

Steeling himself against the desire to hear more of that laughter, he returned his attention to Light and the printouts. The brunet had stopped on one of Higuchi's victims, his brow creased with the effort of trying to remember who she was. Elijah used the quiet moment to explain, "I am aware of the saying about eggs and omelets, but I wondered whether you realized just how many lives you had broken. Just how many guiltless people have already died for your cause."

Brown eyes flicked up to him with a trace of anger. "_I've_ broken?" he repeated. His fingers searched through the papers quickly, pulling one out and holding it up to the older man's face. "I didn't kill Ukita. Misa did. In fact, I don't think even a third of these people are my victims."

Elijah reached up, took hold of the paper bearing the unfortunate detective's face, and brought it down so that he could see Light once more. "You may not have killed them yourself," he insisted, "but they are all your victims. You are responsible for them all because you, Light, are the one who started this. Without you, would Misa have sent her tapes to Sakura TV? Would Higuchi have ever held the Note in his hands? Their deaths are because of you even if you did not personally write their names."

"Fine," Light grumbled, organizing the papers back into a pile. "I'll take responsibility for them since you insist. Why did you print these out anyway? Did you expect me to see them and suddenly fall into a fit of remorse? Promise to swear off the Note and found a charity fund for their widows and orphans?"

"No," Elijah replied with a light chuckle. "That would be quite out of character for you, I think."

"Good. At least you understand that much. Why then?"

Gently, Elijah bit back his initial response and took a moment to phrase his answer so that it would not be incendiary. "Partly to see if you realized just how many there were, as I said, and partly to see if a limit to these kinds of deaths existed. If there will be a point in time where these sacrifices outbalance the good you are trying to achieve."

"If there will be a point where I look at them and say enough is enough?"

"Yes."

Light showed no hesitation at all, shaking his head almost immediately. "No, there won't. I'm prepared to see this through to the end, no matter what the cost. That's how important this is to me, 'Lij."

Dozens of arguments flooded Elijah's head, but he shut them all up and held them all in. Perhaps he could return to this statement later, but right now he needed to let it go. Their previous fight had been too recent to risk it. Instead, his thoughts drifted to those first twelve. Truly, the chase had begun with them. Without Penber on the train, L would not have had any reason to focus so much of his attention on the Yagami household. So much could have and probably would have gone differently if only Light had ignored his tail and continued on, confident in his anonymity.

Light had risen and was walking the papers back to his desk when he said, "May I ask a question?"

"Go ahead," Light answered without turning around.

"Did you ever stop to think that if you hadn't killed the FBI agents, it would have taken me much longer to find you?" He raised his eyes and drilled them into the younger man's back as he added, "If I found you at all."

Light paused for a moment, but, to Elijah's surprise, it was only for a moment. "Yes, I'm aware of that," he stated. "I was aware of it at the time as well."

"Then why?"

The drawer slid shut with a soft swoosh, hiding the papers away once more. Smiling, Light turned around and dipped his hands into his pockets. "Because," he replied, "it allowed me to get to you."

Elijah's brows drew down over his eyes. "Get to me?"

"Yes. You issued a challenge, and I accepted it. 'Try to kill me,' you said. To do that, I had to find you, and the most efficient way to do that was for you to find me." His smile broadened into a self-satisfied grin. "I admit it was a difficult task, giving you enough of bait to come find me but not giving you enough to arrest me, but it paid off in the end."

Realization dawned, and for some reason, Elijah felt terribly disappointed. Choosing not to respond right away, he pushed himself off of the bed and stood. When his feet hit the floor, his hands found his pockets like Light's had, but he did not smile.

"So," he finally stated, "ever since the live broadcast with Tailor, your plan to rid the world of criminals has not been a mission or a crusade. It has been a game."

Light snorted and leaned back against the desk, pulling his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms over his chest. "You can't tell me you didn't think the same way. Constantly measuring out percentage points, setting me up for traps, trying to predict my moves and thwart them. It was just as much a game for you as it was for me."

"Yes," Elijah admitted in a low voice, "it was." He lifted his head and gazed out the window. Darkness had descended, hiding the world away except for small circles of light thrown by the lamps along the street. "It was a game. It was all about winning and being right. I'm very fortunate that I got the chance to be shown just how wrong I was." He smiled as his mother entered his mind -- the things she had taught him and the love she had shown. Quietly, he stated, "Life is not a game where it doesn't matter how many pawns you sacrifice as long as your king still stands. To truly appreciate your own life, you must also appreciate the lives of others." His eyes sought out Light's from beneath his bangs. "That's what I think anyway."

Light did not respond, only lowered his chin and fixed his eyes on the ground as Elijah shuffled by him towards the door. Only when the blond had stepped out into the hallway did the brunet stir.

"Wouldn't you like it, 'Lij? To live in a perfect world without crime or violence?"

Elijah smiled sadly at him. "Of course I would," he answered. "I'm sure Raye and Naomi would have, too."

Ignoring Light's mild flinch, he reached over to his wall and turned off the light, leaving the other man in darkness.

* * *

A/N: I swear, what with organizing the arguments, keeping the philosophies balanced, and presenting it all within the context of a story, this fic is the hardest thing I've ever done. And that includes my senior thesis on cryptology.

Lily's story will be next chapter. Thanks for all your patience and support.


	9. Chapter 9

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: As always, my apologies for the wait and my thanks for your patience.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 9**

"Okay, Elijah, say _aaaaaah_ …"

Staring at the blonde girl next to him through his own fair bangs, Elijah replied, "I am already suffering enough humiliation by allowing you to do this. Why do you insist on making it worse?"

Charlie lowered the fork back to the plate and smiled at him. "It's not humiliating," she insisted.

"You are feeding me like I am some kind of infant."

"Well, you're the one who was bitching about not being able to eat because of that shit on your nails."

He sniffed in indignation and hunched his shoulders even more. "I do not bitch," he grumbled.

A soft, deep chuckle floated to him from the living room, but he pointedly ignored it. This was entirely Light's fault. A beautiful slice of double-chocolate layer cake sat on a plate in front of him, but he could not eat it. Why could he not eat it? Because a certain sadistic brunet had covered his hands in some sort of garlic oil which absolutely _reeked_, and therefore he couldn't get his hands anywhere near his face without violently gagging. Hence, Charlie's offer to feed him which, to the girl's surprise, had only darkened his black mood.

Elijah dug his chin into his knees and sulked. Even the fact that Charlie was here was Light's fault. Drawing Elijah had apparently sparked a massive inspiration within Lily, so the girl had returned a few days later with the request this time to sketch Light. She had muttered something about interlocking portraits before posing him in the middle of the room with an umbrella over his head. The young man had, unsurprisingly, slipped into the role of model with confident ease. He had also seemed more than happy to leave his best friend in the kitchen to suffer by himself from low blood sugar and unwanted female attention.

"Come on, 'Lij," said female wheedled. "Don't make me take drastic measures. I am an experienced babysitter after all." When he lifted an eyebrow in response, she raised the fork again and, to his complete horror, began making sputtering noises with her lips. "Here comes the plane into the hangar," she sang, moving the fork erratically but ever towards him.

In the other room, the chuckling turned into full-blown laughter.

"Are you mad?" Elijah demanded, backing away from her as far as the chair would allow.

"What?" she asked with an evil grin. "You prefer trains?"

"Light! Stop moving!"

"S-sorry, sorry …"

"Chug-a-chug-a-choo-choo!"

"All right!" Elijah cried, throwing up his hands. "All right! I will let you feed me the cake. But _please_, no more transportation devices!"

"Deal," Charlie smiled. "Now open up."

He obeyed, shutting his eyes at the same time. A moment later, the delightfully soothing taste of chocolate spread across his tongue, and he closed his lips, feeling the metal of the fork slide through them on its way out. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment, but the sweet sugar was slowly easing his nerves. Warily, he cracked open one eye to look at the woman across from him; she was preparing the next bite with a small smile on her face, much calmer now that she had won. Releasing a small sigh through his nose, Elijah swallowed his mouthful and opened his other eye. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Slowly and systematically, Charlie helped Elijah demolish the chocolate cake. Neither of them spoke during the process, the only sounds the faint voices of Light and Lily as the two carried on their own conversation in the other room. In the kitchen, silence reigned as all concentration went towards the offering and receiving of cake. Only when the last piece went into his mouth did Elijah dare to speak.

"Thank you," he said solemnly as Charlie laid the fork on the empty plate and pushed it to the center of the table.

"You're welcome," she replied with a smile. "If you ever want me to do it again, just let me know." She threw her arms over her head and stretched lazily. When she finished, she commented idly, "It's a good excuse to keep me away from Kira-Lover over there, so I'm grateful, too." She leaned back in her chair and added with a thoughtful look, "I need to plan my next attack. Lily told me not to do anything while she's sketching, but once she's done, he's mine."

A prickle of apprehension crept up Elijah's spine. He and Light had been tiptoeing around each other ever since Charlie's first offensive. The older man had done his best to put the younger at ease and regain their usual camaraderie, but for some reason, this time Light was having difficulty letting go of what troubled him. For Charlie to launch a second attack right now could mean disaster for their friendship.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Charlie turned her head to him, blue eyes narrowed a bit in confusion. "Why not?" she asked.

Elijah began tapping his fingers against his calves as he answered, "Light is still on edge from your first conversation about Kira. A second one will only make it worse."

"But that's good," she insisted, leaning forward. "It's good for him to be on edge. With enough pushing, we can knock him off of his self-righteous pedestal and get him to see how wrong he's been all this time."

"No," he returned immediately with a firm shake of his head. "That won't work. Perhaps someone else might respond in that way, but not Light. You don't know him as well as I do, Charlie. The more you try to shake him off that pedestal, the more he'll tighten his grip and refuse to let go. He's the type who will be stubborn purely for the sake of being stubborn."

Charlie sat back again, considering this for a moment. Eventually, she said, "Okay, I understand. After all, you basically just described me." A grin flashed across her face briefly, but by her next sentence, it had disappeared. "So, you want me to stop bugging him. Right?"

"Yes."

"For how long? Not for good?"

"Quite possibly, yes," he admitted. "Your personality seems to agitate him."

She snorted violently. "Agitate him?" she echoed. "What a freaking wuss. I haven't even gotten properly mad at him yet." Before Elijah could begin to wonder what a 'properly mad' Charlie was like, she continued, "Sorry, 'Lij, but I can't agree to that. Lily likes you guys and wants to hang out this summer, but there's no way I'm going to be able to keep my mouth shut around a Kira supporter. I can back off for a bit if that's what you want, but I can't give it up completely."

"Instead of giving it up," Elijah asked gently, "could you give it to me?"

Charlie cocked her head at him. "Give it to you?"

"Yes," he replied, leaning forward and wriggling his toes. "I too would like Light to stop supporting Kira. I think it would be best if you surrender your own battle plans and instead place your trust in me. I have a better chance of succeeding since I know him so well."

A frown had settled over the blonde's face as she listened, deepening with each sentence. "I don't know," she admitted when he had finished. "That's a pretty large amount of trust you want me to give you, and I don't usually give that much to new friends."

Elijah lifted a hand to his face, intending to play with his lip a bit, but the terrible smell of garlic stopped him before it got higher than his sternum. He spent the next minute coughing and breathing shallowly. Charlie offered to get him a glass of water, but he declined with a shake of his head. As he continued to cough, trying to get his body back under control, the girl laid a comforting hand on one of his bare feet which she removed promptly once his breathing became normal again.

"Shit," she commented when he looked up. "I'm surprised you don't want me to tear into Light simply as revenge for doing this to you."

"His intentions are good," Elijah replied weakly, "even if his methods are abominable." His eyes were streaming from the fit, and he moved to wipe the tears away, but memory and realization stopped him just in time. As he stared in a mixture of fear and despair at his hands, Charlie leapt from her seat, grabbed a napkin from the nearby sideboard, and began cleaning his face herself. "Thank you," he whispered when she had finished.

"You're welcome." She smiled gently as she returned to her seat. Then, she confirmed, "You sure you don't want me to rip him a new one for you?"

"Yes," Elijah replied, "I'm sure." He wasn't entirely sure what she had meant, but he had the feeling he didn't want to ask. "What I want," he continued, "is for you to entrust him to me. If that is too much to ask for a new friend, then perhaps we can agree on this: trust me to deal with him while you get to know him better. Once you sufficiently understand how he works and know the best methods for fighting with him without engaging his hypersensitive defense system, then I will welcome you back to the front lines. Until then, though, I fear you will only be hurting my progress with your own tactics."

Charlie crossed her arms and frowned. "You want me to willingly get chummy with someone who I know is a Kira supporter? Ugh."

"Consider it research," he suggested. "I think I can safely say that no other Kira supporter that you've met is quite like Light." A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth at this statement. It was far truer than the girl knew.

She wrinkled her nose at him and repeated, "Ugh."

Elijah sighed tiredly. Getting Charlie off of Light's back, however, was extremely important if he was to have any hope of succeeding, so he pulled out his trump card. "Would you do it for Lily?"

The blonde's face immediately changed. Her stubborn expression melted and her eyes softened. The crossed arms dropped, letting her hands fall into her lap. She turned her head towards the other room and said quietly, "I'd do anything for Lily."

The change surprised him even though he had been expecting it to some extent. Curious, he asked, "You two are that close? As close as sisters?"

Charlie smiled distantly. "Lily is my sister, my mother, my daughter, my best friend, and my lover," she breathed. Then her attitude sharpened and she whipped her head back to grin at Elijah. "Purely in the platonic sense on that last one," she stated, lifting a finger at him, "so get your mind out of the gutter, 'Lij."

He leaned back a bit, mildly offended that she would think that of him. "My mind is never in the gutter, thank you very much."

To his surprise, she laughed loudly. "Well, why the hell not?" she demanded. "It's such a fun place to be!" Before he could recover from his bout of sputtering, she pushed on, "All right, I'll accept your proposal. However, I have one last attack that I want to do. I was going to save it for later, but since I have to surrender control this early, I'll do it today." She turned her head back to the other room with a slightly worried expression. "That's if Lily will let me," she admitted. "If she says no, then you can have your temporary truce right away." Not moving her head, she shifted her eyes to him and grinned. "Deal?"

He nodded, content with this development. "Deal."

"All right then." As if signaling that the conversation was over, Charlie slapped her hands down on her thighs loudly before she rose from her chair. Elijah watched her move briskly away and disappear into the other room, presumably to talk to Lily and get the other girl's permission for this last maneuver. At a much more leisurely pace, he abandoned his own chair and shuffled after her.

When he entered the living room, he noticed at once that Lily had finished the portion of her sketch which required the umbrella. Instead of holding it over his head as if it were raining indoors, Light had folded it back up and was tapping it against his shoulder in a steady rhythm. The way the other young man kept his feet planted to the ground, however, suggested that the girl had not yet finished with his lower half. Light all but confirmed this when he twisted at the waist to give Elijah a welcoming nod and then twisted back, keeping his lower half completely still the entire time.

Lily sat in the same chair as last time, but at the moment her fingers were still as she listened to Charlie who was hanging over her shoulder and whispering into her ear. Elijah watched her expression carefully. As Charlie continued to speak, it gradually turned apprehensive, then sad, then resigned. Her dark head dipped in a small nod. Charlie asked a few more questions, to which Lily replied with more nods or short, soft-spoken answers, and then the conversation was over as the determined blonde moved to sit in a different chair and the anxious brunette returned to her sketching.

Having settled himself into a chair of his own, Elijah gripped his calves with his foul-smelling fingers and waited. Based on the evidence he had seen and heard, he thought he knew what was about to be revealed. For some reason, something inside him tingled at the hope that his suspicions were correct. It was yet another strange and new feeling to add to all the others. That this one was instigated by Lily rather than by Julie or Light was a little disconcerting, but he shrugged it off easily. He assured himself that, while he did not like Lily romantically as Light was always eager to suggest, he did like her and part of that emotion was disliking to see her unhappy and wanting to assist in making her happy again. Satisfied with his reasoning, he nodded to himself and rested his head in his knees to make himself more comfortable.

As expected, he did not have to wait long for the new attack to begin.

"Hey, Light," Charlie accosted him without warning.

The brunet turned his neck to look at her, still being careful not to move his legs. "What?"

"You have any brothers or sisters?"

Light raised an eyebrow at her, and even Elijah blinked at the unexpected question. "Yes," the younger man answered after a moment. "A sister."

"Older or younger?"

"Younger."

"What's her name?"

"Sayu."

"Sayu," Charlie repeated, leaning back in her chair and pausing as if rolling the name around in her head. Then, she asked, "You two close?"

Light shrugged. "Close enough for siblings. We don't hate each other." His eyes narrowed and the umbrella thumped a little harder against his shoulder. "What are you getting at?"

The blonde smirked a little at the question and answered it by launching her own final inquiry: "If Sayu were murdered, would you want Kira to kill the one who had done it?"

The string of words sliced through the air of the living room, causing Light to lose that tight control he had kept over his body. He took a step back, destroying the perfect stillness he had kept going for Lily's sake until now. Instantly angry, he slammed the foot back into its original place and, after sending an apologetic look to the other girl, glared hatefully at Charlie.

"What kind of a question is that?" he demanded.

She shrugged, unfazed by the fire in his eyes. "It's just a question," she answered in an almost-bored tone. "You're the Kira fan in this group. I was just wondering if you'd want him to kill someone in your name." When he refused to answer right away, she narrowed her eyes and pressed, "So? Would you?"

"Yes," he bit out. "I would."

"If your sister died, you'd want Kira to punish the killer."

"Yes."

Charlie leaned forward, elbows on her knees and hands dangling in front of her legs. Her blue eyes stared strongly into Light's. "Why?" she asked in an even, pointed voice. "What good would it do? It won't undo what has been done. It won't bring her back to life."

Light's face contorted with the knowledge of what she was trying to do. "Maybe not," he argued, "but it would bring peace to my family to know that her killer had received his punishment."

"Peace?"

"_Yes_."

"Your peace hinges on revenge?" she asked, frowning.

"Not revenge," he shot back. "Justice." She opened her mouth to argue and question further, but he cut her off. "I know what you're going to say," he snapped, "and I don't want to hear it. The friends and family members of victims appreciate what Kira has done. I _know_ they have. I've met some of them." He paused, his spine stiffening, waiting for Elijah to chime in that he, in fact, was dating one of them. But Elijah remained silent; he firmly intended to stay out of this battle. Confident that the revelation he feared was not coming, Light continued, "Sneer if you want. Go ahead and talk about the higher ground and being morally above all of that, but the fact is that when someone you love is hurt, you want the person who did it to be punished, and when he isn't, it hurts. It hurts terribly, and Kira or anyone else finally giving you that peace is a relief. It's closure. So yes, Charlie, if Sayu ever got hurt by anyone, I'd want the bastard to suffer, by Kira's hand if not by my own."

During his speech, the girl had rested her head on one hand, and now she blinked at him calmly. "I see," she finally said, causing Light to half-snarl with irritation at her lack of response. Completely ignoring him, she heaved a little sigh and leaned back again, letting her head fall against the back of the chair and tipping it up to look at the ceiling. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised," she commented to no one in particular. "You are male, after all, and a bit on the caveman side."

"_Excuse me?!_"

Elijah dipped his head and tried not to laugh. Charlie was pushing buttons with abandon now, and Light was reacting to them all. He was practically steaming, fists clenched, muscles tense. As he snuck glances at his friend through his bangs, Elijah began to calculate how long it would take for the hot anger exploding from the young man to set off all of the fire alarms in the house.

The calm blonde in the chair seemed not to care that a ticking time bomb was pointed directly at her and slipping down to zero at lightning-quick speed. She stretched lazily for a moment -- pushing more buttons -- and then lifted her head to gaze at Light. She sighed, "Well, you're entitled to your opinion, I guess, as long as you realize that not everyone thinks that way."

The brunet's gritted teeth loosened as his lips formed a hefty sneer. "Oh really?" he replied. "I haven't met or heard of a single person who feels differently."

The words had barely finished falling from Light's lips when Elijah finally understood. His eyes widened at the realization. Such a sneaky, calculated trap. His gaze snapped to Charlie, and sure enough, a satisfied smile had taken over the girl's face.

"Oh, you've met people," she was saying, her tone sly and triumphant. "You just didn't realize it." Her head rolled to the side, her gaze seeking out the fourth person in the room. "Hey, Lil," she called gently. "Do you need justice in order to feel peace? Do you want the bastard who killed your sister to suffer?"

In a sudden upheaval of logic and physics, time stopped. To Elijah and Light, the world had crumbled away. They simply stared at the little artist, too shocked to move or even breathe. She, knowing that the question was coming, had hung her head. She sat there, enduring their stares with lowered eyes. Finally, after a seeming eternity, she closed her sketchbook and put it and pencil aside, a signal to the cosmos that life could continue to flow once more.

In a whisper, she answered, "No. I don't."

Abruptly, Charlie rose and stood before Light who was swallowing periodically in an attempt to find his voice. "Sit down," she told him, indicating the chair she had just vacated. When he didn't move immediately, she grabbed his arm and yanked, taking advantage of his stunned state to force him into the chair. Then, she crossed the room to Lily and took up position behind her, draping her arms over her friend's shoulders to offer support.

"Lily is adopted," she began, taking it upon herself to begin the story. "Her biological parents wanted a boy, and when they didn't get one, they gave her up. Hundreds of Asian girls with white parents came from the same starting place. Lily was lucky in that she got the best set of adoptive parents you could hope to find. Loving, kind, supportive, just a pair of all-around wonderful people."

"Yes," Lily smiled, hugging the other's arms a little bit to herself. Then, her smile faltered, and she said, "Rose wasn't as lucky." She took a small breath, her eyes closed, before continuing, "I was the second daughter my parents had. The first, my older sister Rose, they also sent over to America for adoption. I have no memories of her from when we were children -- I suppose I was too young -- but I always knew I had a sister. I knew she was out there, and I wanted to find her so that we could at the very least keep in touch. I had to wait until I was old enough, but eventually I looked for her."

Her fingers tightened ever so slightly on Charlie's arms as she said, "By the time I found her, she was in Juvie, serving time for drug possession and assault. Her adoptive family had fallen apart, and she had been passed around through so many neglectful and borderline abusive foster homes that she had turned cold and angry. When I went to visit her, she yelled at me. She told me to go away and never come back. I was so upset that I almost did. But I realized that, even if she didn't want my love and support, she needed me to give it, so I went back and when I returned home, I wrote letters. She never wrote back except to ask for money that I never gave, but I kept on writing them even as she bounced in and out of prison. And then she and a few other girls got into a fight with a dealer and killed him."

Elijah exhaled slowly through his nose as Lily paused again. Carefully, his eyes sought out Light sitting across the room. It was now pretty obvious where this story was headed, and he wanted to see the other's reaction. Light had lowered his chin almost to his chest, unseeing eyes staring at the ground, face deliberately blank. Not surprisingly, he did not appear to be disturbed by the upcoming revelation. Elijah repressed a snort. Kira had killed innocents simply to advance in the "game" that he played; of course this tale of a juvenile delinquent turned murderess would not affect him, even if it did bring tears to a gentle young woman's eyes.

Those tears hovered at the edges of dark eyes but did not fall as Lily said, "I went to her trial even though Rose told me she didn't want me there. And after she was sentenced, I continued to write her letters even though I suspected she threw them all out without reading them. Then, about a year later, I started getting replies." Lily sighed and leaned back into Charlie who held her more closely. "They were terrible," she confided. "Full of hate and violence. After receiving one, I always spent the next day or so in a strange mixed state of fear and depression. I understand now that she was both testing me to see if she could push me away and releasing multiple years worth of anger, disappointment, and loneliness. At the time, though, I didn't know why she would repay my support in that way. But I kept giving it. I kept on writing to her, ignoring her nightmare letters and sending my own full of optimism and joy."

A single tear finally broke free and slid down Lily's cheek. She reached up and brushed it away before announcing, "A few months after I first starting receiving Rose's letters, something changed. She stopped her threats and her blood-filled fantasies and began to ask me questions. She started writing about how she was doing, about life in prison, and more rarely about what she had experienced in foster care. The two of us began to have actual conversations instead of written monologues. Instead of dreading her letters, I began looking forward to them, and she told me that she had started to look forward to mine as well. Instead of screaming at me to go away, she began to thank me for staying, for being there for her. We became penpals, then close friends, then actual sisters."

Lily smiled, her sad mood lifting ever so slightly. "Rose had never shown remorse for anything that she had done," she said, "but slowly, she began to talk to me about turning her life around. Thanks to prison, she had gotten off of the drugs, and with my support and a clearer mind, she began to think about making something of herself. She started taking classes, filling out the gaps in her education that her descent into the streets had produced. Her letters were full of the things she was learning and the dreams she was finally allowing herself to have. When she first wrote to me about parole, it was like reading a letter from an excited teenager about to go on her first date with her ultimate crush. She told me that once she was released, she wanted to try for a community college and eventually work with troubled kids. She talked about being both a negative example and a positive role model for them, about showing them what the streets could do to you but also showing them how they could take their lives back into their own hands. I was …" Lily stopped, choked by the tears that were now flowing freely. Distraught, she forced out, "I was … so .. _proud_ of her …" Her hands flew to her face, and she sobbed, unable to continue.

Charlie moved, coming around from the back of the chair to sit on the arm next to Lily. The taller girl drew the other into her arms and let her cry against her neck. Raising her head to look at the two young men in the room, she finished, "Last October, Rose died of a heart attack. All evidence pointed to it being Kira."

Elijah's eyes shot to Light. Last October, the young man had been here. There was no way that he could pass this one off on Higuchi or even Misa. Sitting comfortably in his chair, Light continued to stare blankly at the floor, but his brown eyes had widened ever so slightly, indicating that he realized this as well. He had been the one to kill Lily's sister. He had placed her name into the Death Note with his own hand.

"So," Charlie said, unaware of the turmoil going on behind closed faces, "now you know why I despise Kira so much and why I think anyone who supports him is an utter moron." Her fingers gently ran through the smaller girl's hair, trying to comfort her. She sighed, "Lily, however, doesn't hate Kira in spite of what he's done and, as she said before, doesn't want him to drop dead or suffer even a little."

"I just want him to _stop!_" the distressed voice announced from Charlie's neck. Lily turned her head so as to speak more clearly, showing off her red eyes and the damp tracks on her cheeks. "He doesn't understand," she said, swallowing the sobs that continued to threaten. "All he sees are the police reports and the criminal records. He doesn't understand that the people he kills are _people_. That they have the ability to change, to make amends, to turn things around. Yes, most people who commit crimes and who go to jail stay stuck in that web forever, but there's always the _chance_ that they'll somehow break free. Once you kill someone, you take away that chance."

"To someone who didn't know her, Rose was scum," Charlie stated in a hard voice. "And in a world of numbers, yes, she deserved to die because she killed someone who was just as much scum as she was. And yet …" Her eyes focused on Light who refused to return the gaze. "… who knows what would have happened had she lived? Maybe there's a kid out there who'll end up drugged-out on the street or in a jail or dead who would have taken comfort and inspiration from Rose and fixed his life before it got that far. Maybe he would have ended up that way even with her support. No one knows. And that, Light, is the point. No one knows how a person's life will eventually play out, not even the person himself. And therefore _no one_ has the right to end that life prematurely, not for any reason."

Finally, Light reacted, but what he saw in the other man made Elijah sigh in disappointment. Charlie's accusing tone and words had activated Light's defenses. The girls could not see it, but Elijah could. He could see the young man wrapping stubborn refusals and excuses around himself like a protective covering. Layer after layer of it, winding tightly around his eyes and ears, blocking out everything but what he believed in -- what he needed to believe in to keep going. He would reason it all away, all these terribly important realities that the girls were showing him. He would think and reason and explain and defend until nothing was left. Elijah could see it, just as clearly as if Light's thoughts were ropes, twirling and snaking around him.

But then, Lily spoke.

"Light?"

The simple utterance of his name in such a soft, gentle voice jolted Light like an electric shock. He visibly jumped, snapping his head to the girl with wide eyes and partly open mouth. Elijah sucked in his breath and held it. With one word, Lily had completely defused Light. At that moment, the arrogant brunet was more open and more vulnerable than Elijah had ever seen him. His heart hammered. Was it possible that this wouldn't turn out the way Elijah had foreseen? Could it be that there existed the slightest bit of real, true hope?

Lily smiled at Light through the tears that had slowed but not stopped completely. In that same gentle tone, she told him, "I understand your point about justice and about peace. I really do. But while I understand your view …" She lifted her head to glare a bit at her best friend. "… and will fight Charlie to defend your right to have it …" Her gaze lowered to him again. "… I will never agree with it myself. Kira doesn't just take lives. He kills hope. And that's why I'll never support him. No matter how much justice he brings. No matter how much peace he grants to others. The people he killed, they had families, too, and they had futures. The rest of the world may think that their futures weren't worth anything, but they still _had_ them … until Kira took them away." She sighed and looked down briefly before lifting her eyes once more and asking, "Do you understand, Light? You don't have to agree with my views, and I truly don't expect you to. But can you at least understand them?"

Light blinked, and a rare look of panic flashed across his face. Before the other man could answer, Elijah cleared his throat quietly and brought those brown eyes to him. With his own hard gaze, he ordered Light not to lie to Lily. They both knew just how easily the younger man could roll an affirmative off of his tongue without thought. He had built and maintained far more complex lies in the past; a simple 'yes' here would be nothing to him. But it was everything to Lily, and Elijah would be damned if he let Light shrug this question off and hide behind his deceitful masks. With only his eyes, Elijah commanded Light to think about his answer for once and respond only when he knew the truth.

The connection between the two young men broke as Light closed his eyes and lowered his head. Silence spread through the room. Content, Elijah leaned back in his chair and waited.

Finally, after many minutes, Light said quietly, "Yes. I can."

"I'm glad," Lily replied as if no time had passed. Smiling, she wiped away the lingering tears and then reached for her sketchbook again.

Light rose, and for a moment, Elijah thought he was going to resume his modeling duties, but then the younger man stated, "I'm feeling tired. Please excuse me."

Charlie straightened as if to object, but Lily's hand on her arm stopped her. "Of course," the smaller girl replied. "Thank you for letting me draw you."

"You're welcome," he said with a small smile in her direction. It faded quickly, however, and he added, "I'm sorry about your sister."

"Thank you," she smiled. "But it's okay. You don't have to feel bad for me."

"Yeah," Charlie added, unable to keep out of the conversation anymore, "and don't apologize. It's not like _you_ killed her." She laughed at her joke.

Light tensed. It was slight, but Elijah's watching eyes caught it. And then the younger man was gone, vanishing up the stairs to the second floor. Elijah frowned to himself. He thought he had seen something, but it had disappeared too soon for him to be sure. His curiosity wanted him to jump up and go investigate at once, but his common sense told him just how disastrous a move like that would be at the moment.

A hand crashed down on his shoulder, making him jump. Surprised, he snapped his head up and met Charlie's sparkling eyes.

"See?" she said with a grin. "Told you we could knock him off that pedestal."

The blond shook his head slightly but did not comment. Instead, he verified, "And now you leave him alone."

Charlie straightened and gave him a crisp salute. "Absolutely, sir. I leave all future attacks in your capable hands."

"What are you talking about?" Lily asked, coming up to them with her bag slung over her shoulder.

"Nothing, nothing," her friend answered quickly. She grabbed the other girl's hand in her own and began to lead her to the door. "We have to go now, 'Lij," she called over her shoulder. "I have a practice in fifteen minutes. Don't get up though. We'll show ourselves out. See ya! Oh, and good luck with those fingers!"

"Good-bye," Lily managed before Charlie had pulled her out of the room. A few seconds later, Elijah heard the front door open and then close again. He shook his head at their abrupt exit, wondering to himself if he would ever get used to Charlie's impetuous ways.

A few minutes passed, and Elijah simply sat, enjoying the quiet. But then, he extracted himself from his chair and walked to the bottom of the stairs. Distractedly, he lifted a hand and placed it on the wall next to the railing that led to the upper floor. As far as he knew, Light had never once regretted killing any of his victims, and yet Elijah had thought he had spied the smallest bit of remorse on the other man's face before he had run away. Charlie had given him doubt; Lily had given him regret. Now it was Elijah's turn to take those weapons and destroy Kira for good.

He closed his eyes and prayed that he would have the patience and the skill to do so without harming Light in the process.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Check it out! An update! Yes, I am still alive and kicking. As always, I apologize for the wait. The unplanned hiatus, however, has done wonders for me. This chapter is considerably better now than it was when I first wrote it, and I also have a firm grasp on where I'm going from here, at least for a while. So, while I know breaks like this are annoying for readers, for me it did a lot of good.

This chapter is downright monumental in relation to the development of Light's character and the eventual outcome of the story. I have a feeling some of you may object, but I feel it's logical and rather appropriate. In fact, I'm extremely happy with it, so I hope you enjoy it as well.

Thanks to some stupidity on my part, I lost track of who I replied to last chapter and who I didn't. So if you didn't get a personal thank you, I'm sending you one now. Thank you!

Finally, a big thank you to my hubby for the German bit in the middle. I'll shut up now.

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* * *

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**Chapter 10**

Light's hands were shaking. His trembling fingers rested lightly on the thick paper before him, creating an almost inaudible rustling. His vision had blurred around the edges, but the center stayed painfully clear, and his eyes simply would not look away no matter how much he commanded them to move.

He had found Rose.

The letters of her name stared up at him, each one written neatly in his own handwriting. As he gazed at them, images formed in his mind: an older version of Lily, clutching her chest in pain before collapsing to a cold, bare floor. What had gone through her mind as she died? Had her thoughts turned to Lily, or had they focused on the dreams she had had for the rest of her life? Light rarely bothered to think about those he had judged, but when he had, he had always imagined them spending their last few seconds of existence thinking of their crimes and realizing that Kira had condemned them. As he looked down at the letters that had ended Rose's life, however, he understood how arrogant of a thought that was.

Light clamped a hand over his mouth as a wave of horror bombarded him. The strength of it took his breath away. He hadn't felt a sickness like this in years. In fact, he hadn't experienced this much nausea and revulsion since … since …

Since he had written down the name of that disgustingly perverted biker and, forty seconds later, watched as a truck turned him into a pile of blood and broken bones.

His stomach lurched. His eyes began to water. Still, Rose's name stared up at him, each stroke of ink clear and hard. But as he stared back, struggling to breathe without choking, something -- the angle of the light or the moisture in his eyes -- gave the dark ink a hint of red. A name written in blood. No, a page of names written in blood. His mind filled with images of various men and women of differing ages and races, all collapsing one after the other, blood and saliva dribbling from their trembling lips, their hands clawing out to him, trying to catch him and drag him down with them. Because he, Light Yagami, had murdered them all.

He had _murdered_ them _all_.

Desperately, Light dove into himself, searching for his resolve even as his heart pounded against his chest and his lungs burned with breaths laced with fire. He tried to think of justice and purity and a better world, tried to find the confidence and the knowledge that he was right and anyone who disagreed with him was wrong, but the strength would not come to him. He understood it now. He wasn't a God. He was terribly, pathetically human. He had made mistakes, mistakes he regretted, and while he should have been able to cast that knowledge aside and move forward regardless, for some reason that tiny crack in his armor had exploded throughout his entire foundation and destroyed everything. The dam was breaking, and there was nothing he could do about it. Unfamiliar panic and horror was flooding over him, and he was helpless, drowning beneath its powerful current. He was suffocating, dying just as Rose had died. Just as they all had died.

One word rang through his head over and over. Murderer … Murderer … _Murderer_.

Deep in his pocket, his phone rang, causing the real world to come crashing back into his senses, making him jump in surprise. With trembling fingers, Light dug out the small machine, more out of habit than out of any belief that he could talk to someone right now. He checked the screen just in case.

It was his own number from home.

He had to take it then, or risk getting an earful the next time. Drawing in a large, steeling breath to get himself back under control, Light flipped open the phone and, fully expecting his father to be on the other end, said politely, "Moshi moshi."

To his surprise, a bright voice cried, "Oniisan!"

"Sayu," Light sighed with a smile. In an instant, all his lingering sickness cleared, and he felt an odd calm wash over him.

"Yup, it's me," his little sister answered in Japanese. "Are you ready for me to visit?"

Light leaned back comfortably in his chair and countered in English, "Are _you_ ready? No one here will understand you if you talk like that, and I'm not going to play translator for you."

"Ehh?" she whined, still speaking in their native tongue. "You're not? You're mean, oniisan."

Any other time, Light would have rolled his eyes and berated her for acting childish, but tonight, he laughed. Hearing her voice just felt so soothing to him right now. His tight breathing eased and his racing heart slowed as he listened to her chatter on, refusing to speak in English even though he knew she could. As the familiar sounds washed over him, he slowly became aware of how much his little sister had grown. She wasn't _mature_ by any means, but she wasn't really the little brat he knew anymore. She was right there on the edge, teetering upon that thin wire between the innocence of childhood and the responsibility of adulthood.

By the time Light hung up with Sayu, he was smiling and laughing with her in a way he hadn't done in years. For the first time in a long time, he appreciated the fact that he had a sister, and he realized as he put the phone down that he was actually looking forward to her visit.

His fingers brushed the edge of the Death Note which he had closed sometime during his conversation. A little shudder ran through his shoulders as his skin contacted the rough surface of the book's cover. That terrible sickness tried to attack him again as his mind returned to thoughts of the names inside, but this time the fear and revulsion did not reach him. Something else inside him blocked it and kept it at bay. It wasn't, however, the feelings of superiority and righteousness that he usually felt when thinking of the Note and the path he had taken. It was something entirely different, something new.

Light sat in a foreign state of detachment, running his fingertips back and forth across the black cover on his desk. It was, he realized, rather like standing in a narrow tunnel between two separate tanks in an aquarium. On either side of him, he could see entire worlds, full of color, movement, and life, but thick walls of impenetrable glass separated him from both. He existed in the barren, sterile world between. On one side of his mind, he could hear the cries of the dead, see their bodies writhe in pain, their hands reach out to him for bloody vengeance. But the terror they evoked did not touch him; their grasping fingers did not reach him. On the other side of his mind, he could see his perfect world, see his ascendance to godhood, hear the faithful sending their cries of thanks and worship. But the satisfaction that he usually felt at the thought of his supreme victory was absent from his heart; he could not reach it no matter how hard he tried. Light was stuck somewhere in the middle.

He knew who had blocked him from his contentment: Elijah and the girls. Those three had argued and hypothesized and attacked and counterattacked for so long that they had, temporarily at least, shaken Light's resolve. The little seeds of doubt that they had wormed through his defenses had sprouted into a great wall separating him from his confidence, and he had yet to figure out how to bring it down. The barrier on the other side of him, however, he did not understand as well although he was quite grateful for its presence.

Idly, Light's fingers traced the white letters upon the black cover. 'D'. 'E'. 'A'. Everyone around him, it seemed, either actively wanted him to give up the Death Note or would want him to if they knew he was Kira. Elijah, Lily, Charlie -- although really who cared what _she_ wanted -- Julie and Rich, Ethan, Mark, and Annie, his father, mother, and sister. 'T'. 'H'. 'N'. Other than his legions of nameless, faceless fans, the only ones he knew who supported him were Ryuk and Misa. But Ryuk was only interested in entertainment, and Misa was an idiot, so the only person whose opinion he respected that supported him was Light himself. 'O'. 'T'. 'E'.

His fingers slid down the page until his hand fell off of the edge of the desk and into his lap. Interesting that he should think of something like this. It had never bothered him before. He had been completely ready to walk this road alone, basking in the adulation of anonymous supporters while remaining completely isolated from them. All through the rise of Kira and the epic battle with L, he had never doubted himself, never felt alone, and never once considered giving up the Death Note. This past week, he had experienced all three. For just before the phone had rung, Light had allowed himself to think that perhaps he should just give up and stop.

Why exactly was he doing this? Sitting there in the empty in between, Light couldn't get a firm grasp on a reason. He could see his triumphant victory, but he couldn't feel it, and honestly he knew he'd never reach it. Elijah was right; he'd never achieve a truly perfect world within his lifetime. He wouldn't be the God of Utopia; he'd be dead. He had already made too many mistakes to be truly considered a god anyway. And without access to that perverse thrill of having the power of life and death over others like he usually had, continuing on in the face of such resistance seemed quixotic at best, downright stupid at worst.

But even in his dispassionate state, Light was still Light, and his stubbornness would not allow capitulation that easily. He knew he had a worthwhile dream, one that he shared with thousands of others, one worth fighting for. And he, unlike all those other dreamers, had a powerful tool that could help make their dream a reality. If he could just find a spark to reignite himself, he could break out of this sterile in-between world and move forward once again. It couldn't be over-idealistic though; he realized that now. He may have been intelligent, skilled, and determined, but he was still human. So his motivation needed to be more human as well or risk being broken by the mistakes he was bound to make even in the future. More human than a perfect world of peace for everyone, more emotional, more personal.

Light's breath caught for a split second and his eyes widened as the barriers around his mind cracked and the worlds they held faded away. What remained after all else had dissolved was quite small in comparison but familiar and, Light realized, very close to his heart. Slowly, his eyes slid shut and his lips turned upwards in a contented smile. He inhaled quietly, feeling calm yet determined, eager for action yet completely in control. For a minute he allowed himself to relish the sensations and to enjoy fully his successful escape from the emotionless wasteland within his own mind.

Then, he opened his eyes, grabbed the Death Note, and got to work.

xXx

Summertime, and the living is easy. Or at least, that's what the soprano on the radio would have him believe. But as Elijah sat half-curled on the couch, listening to the classical music station that Julie had on in the kitchen while she washed up after dinner, he thought to himself that his summer had been anything but easy so far.

June was almost over. Only a few days of the month remained. Tomorrow, Light's sister Sayu would arrive for a two-week stay. To be honest, Elijah was not looking forward to it. Sayu would be sleeping in her brother's room during her stay while Light would crash on Elijah's floor, and Elijah wasn't happy with the arrangement. Normally, he wouldn't mind, but ever since the afternoon with Lily and Charlie, Light had been acting very strange. Weird, even. It confused Elijah, and he hated feeling confused.

All of his attempts to engage the younger man in a debate or even a discussion about Kira had failed. Light would simply smile at him -- a gentle, friendly, very _weird_ smile -- and change the subject. Elijah had gained absolutely no insight on Light's thoughts or on that small flash of regret that he had briefly seen on the younger man's face. But unlike Light's previous refusals to cooperate with Elijah, the brunet didn't seem to be avoiding the subject or hiding behind his stubbornness. It seemed as if he simply was not interested in the topic. It confused the blond tremendously.

Elijah nibbled gently on his thumb -- for once not covered in foul-tasting goop or hidden underneath something -- and glanced over at Light who sat silently by the window looking out at the night sky. The young man's face was blank, his gaze distant. He seemed to be completely detached from himself, something that Elijah had never witnessed in the other until recently.

Feeling a sudden desire to bring Light back to reality, and consequently back to him, Elijah rose from the couch and padded over to the other's side. His presence had absolutely no effect on his friend. After a moment of waiting in vain, Elijah considered the option of poking him but eventually settled on a small sigh. "Light?" he questioned gently.

"Nani?"

Surprised, Elijah blinked. He had known that Light was out of it, but this was far worse than he had expected. His curiosity peaked, he carefully checked to make sure that Julie was still occupied with the dishes before turning back and asking in a low voice, "Daijoubu, Raito-kun?"

"Aa," Light responded dully.

"Hontoni?"

"Aa."

Elijah grinned to himself. Not a word from Light about speaking Japanese in the house or about the thumb that sat happily between the blond's teeth. This was rather fun. Like an experiment. Deciding to take it one step further, he switched over to German, a language he knew Light did not understand, and asked, "Weiβ du, daβ du in deine Hose ein Erdbeerkuchen hast?"

"Aa," Light replied without a pause. But then, his brow furrowed as his brain finally began to acknowledge the world around him. The younger man's hand shot out and grabbed Elijah by the wrist, pulling the thumb out of his mouth with the movement. "Wait," he commanded, switching to English. "What the hell did I just agree to?"

"Why, nothing," Elijah answered, grinning broadly now. "I merely informed you that you have a strawberry cake in your trousers. You, however, were apparently already aware of it."

"A strawberry cake," Light echoed without emotion.

"Yes."

"In my pants."

"Yes."

Sighing mightily, Light rolled his eyes and released Elijah's wrist. The older man briefly considered returning his thumb to his mouth but, now that Light was apparently paying attention, decided to place his hands in his pockets instead.

"What did you want anyway?" Light asked, returning his attention to the window and the darkness beyond it.

"Nothing in particular," the elder answered with a shrug. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You've been rather quiet lately, and tonight you seemed to be somewhere else entirely."

"Mmm," Light hummed noncommittally and said nothing more for several minutes. Just as Elijah was about to prompt him again, he explained, "I'm just thinking. About Sayu mostly. Hoping that her flight is okay."

"Worrying?" Elijah asked in a softer tone.

The younger man shrugged one shoulder in response, but the expression on his face answered the question anyway. Intrigued and even a little concerned, Elijah checked again on the location of his mother. He could no longer hear music and running water from the kitchen, but by straining his ears a bit, he could just make out the sounds of classical music coming from Julie's study. Content with this for the moment, Elijah leaned his weight against the wall next to the window and returned his attention to Light.

"It's not like you to worry," he commented in that same low voice. "Not about others." When Light refused to respond, he pushed further. "In fact, I would say that only a year ago, you would have been happy to sacrifice Sayu or any other member of your family if it would serve your own purpose."

"I would have," the response came, quiet and distant. "Things are different now."

"How so?" Light remained silent, so after a moment, Elijah tried again. "Raito-kun? How are things different?"

A small smile turned up the corners of Light's mouth. Calmly, he stated, "I'm doing it for her now."

Elijah just stared at him in stunned disbelief. While this new twist certainly explained Light's recent odd behavior, he never would have even considered it as a possibility. As quickly as he could, he tried to reconstruct Light's thought processes, beginning from the destruction of his ideals, through the refusal of defeat, and ending here at this bizarre attempt at justification. It didn't work. His mind kept stalling at the last step, unable to bridge the gap from what used to be to what apparently now was.

Light's small smile widened into a mild grin as Elijah's silence stretched on and on. He seemed to know the nature of the turmoil raging in the other's mind but remained uninclined to help ease it. In the old days, Elijah realized with half a smile, such behavior would have resulted in him accusing Light of being Kira and adding a point or two to his percentage possibility. But that game was completely pointless now.

Giving up on trying to understand Light's illogical reasoning on his own, Elijah decided to resort to a method that nearly always got him what he wanted: lying. He leaned further into the wall, slouched his shoulders, and assumed a downright bored expression. Light fell for it almost immediately, one delicate eyebrow raising in amused confusion.

"What's the matter, 'Lij? You no longer seem concerned with my well-being."

"I have come to the conclusion that Raito-kun is having a joke at my expense."

"Don't call me Raito-kun," Light returned immediately. "And I'm not joking. I'm completely serious."

"That you intend to continue to pass judgments on criminals as Kira for the sake of your sister."

"For my mother and father as well, but mostly for her, yes."

"Then I must amend my conclusion to one of two possibilities: either you are grasping at straws as a last ditch attempt at victory, or you have lost your mind."

Light laughed, a bright, joyful sound without hint of malice or deceit. "Those both sound pretty likely, don't they? Especially the second one. Unfortunately, you're wrong on both counts." He flashed Elijah an open, honest smile, one that would probably turn the most hard-hearted of women into mush. "I'm not desperately looking for anything to cling to," he continued, "and I am not insane. I've merely had a change of perspective. It's your fault, you know."

"My fault?" Elijah echoed, blinking at him.

"Yes," he replied easily. "You're the one who taught me how to care for someone other than myself." Still smiling, Light turned his head back to the window and gazed up at the night sky. With an audible fondness in his voice, he continued, "Sayu is no longer a child. She's becoming a woman, but she's not quite there yet. She's right at that fragile in-between stage. As her older brother, it's my job to protect her and make sure no harm comes to her. So that's what I'm going to do by cleaning up the scum of this world and making it a safe place for her to live in."

"Only for her?" Elijah questioned, a dull dread beginning to overtake him. "That's very selfish."

"Maybe," Light conceded without hesitation. "But is it more or less selfish than wanting to rule over the world as an iron-fisted God?" He threw Elijah a smirk before explaining, "I'm not going to start wiping people out left and right. I'm cleaning up the world for Sayu and my family, but I'll be happy to share it with everyone else. It's just that I won't be clinging to any foolish thoughts of perfection anymore. I'm going to make mistakes. You and the girls showed me that very clearly. I've made them in the past, and I'll be making them in the future, but I won't let the fear of mistakes or the guilt they create keep me from moving forward. I've accepted that I'm human, 'Lij, not a god. And as a human, I will use everything in my power to protect and nurture myself and those I love. Call it survival of the fittest if you want. I was lucky enough to receive a means of ensuring my family's well-being, and I'm going to use it."

"If I remember correctly," the blond argued, "your sister does not support Kira, and it goes without saying what your father's opinion is. They would not approve of your actions even if your motivation is their protection."

"They don't need to approve of my actions," the brunet returned. "They only need to benefit from them."

Elijah frowned. How was he supposed to battle this new, seemingly altruistic side of Light? His reasoning, if Elijah could call it that, made no sense in relation to his character. It left Elijah bewildered and utterly without ammunition.

Suspecting he knew the answer already, he asked, "If I taught you how to care for someone other than yourself, why not throw away the Note and save me?"

"I considered it," Light replied, truly surprising Elijah. "However, just because my world of peace is no longer perfect doesn't mean I should give up on it. I can still see it, and I still want it. Considering how far I've come already, abandoning it now seems like a waste, even to keep you here." He turned his head and locked eyes with Elijah, offering the older man a small smile. "Sorry."

Elijah swallowed with difficulty. A small part of him was actually amused by the situation. Only Light Yagami could fluster and blindside him like this. Only Light could take all of his careful planning and hard-fought knowledge and overturn it in an instant with one complicated yet still underhanded trick. This didn't feel like a trick, though. This, despite all its irrationality, felt real. And why wouldn't it be? After all, he himself, once the world's coldest, emptiest being who lived purely off of logic and the need to win, had learned how to open up, how to feel, and how to love. Why not Light? Why couldn't a young man, isolated in his material comfort and intellectual ennui, go through a similar transformation when presented with peers who cared for him, not for his looks, brains, or status, but as a friend to be cherished for himself?

Quietly, Elijah said, "You've changed, Raito-kun."

As if reading his mind, Light replied, "So have you, Ryuzaki-san."

"I'm not going to give up. Whether it's for yourself or for someone else, I still believe that what you're doing is wrong and ultimately ineffective."

"I understand. You'll have to be patient, though. I'm still reevaluating my strategy based on my new objectives, and while Sayu is here, I'll want to relax and just enjoy myself. I'm not going to want to discuss this again for at least two weeks."

"Fine. I can respect that." Elijah let his gaze slide sideways, out the window into the darkness that Light had found so fascinating earlier. He wasn't happy about it, but it seemed their conversation was over, for now.

But Light had one more question. "You said before that you can swear in five different languages. In how many do you know how to say 'strawberry cake'?"

A smirk crept over the blond's lips. "At least twice that many," he replied.

"Because that's _such_ an important skill to have."

"Of course. You never know when an emergency will arise that requires cake."

Light rolled his eyes at him. "It seems some things will never change," he sighed. Then, turning his gaze away and softening his voice, he added, "I guess, in this case, that isn't so terrible."

Elijah just smiled.

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A/N: Sorry again for the long wait. The next one shouldn't be as bad.


	11. Chapter 11

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: I am alive! Yes, I know the facts seemed to indicate that I had died, but I live, I swear! I can't believe it took me a month to update. Summer is killing me. At least it's almost over.

This chapter is basically fluffy filler and fun with characters. (Remember visiting Santa? Kind of like that.) No brain-bending philosophy this time around. Interestingly enough, Sayu basically hijacked the first section. That would be Hikari Mitsushima's fault. She's such a perfect little sister in the film -- I love it when she tries to follow Shiori into Light's room -- and she really brought life to a character whose only real purpose is to be kidnapped.

At the risk of making this a monster A/N (too late), I also wanted to say that I've started posting writing updates on my LJ account every Sunday. So if you're wondering how many months you'll have to wait for the next chapter, you can always head on over there to check.

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**Chapter 11**

There were few things in the world that Elijah hated. Disliked, sure. He disliked many things. Crime and violence, vegetables, the color green (mainly because of the aforementioned vegetables), and those were only a few. But as for things he outright hated, he would not be able to think of many that easily, even if pressed.

Elijah hated airports.

It wasn't that he hated planes or flying. As L he had flown constantly, all over the globe. But he had always been in a private plane that left from a private airstrip. He had never had to deal with the constant stream of humanity pushing and shoving and hurrying by or the never-ending noise such a large amount of people produced. It made him very uncomfortable, and he wished more than once that Light and his mother had allowed him to stay in the food court and drown himself in sugary snacks. Being forced to stand here at the gate like an ordinary nobody, it was torture, plain and simple.

"Hah-jay … hah-gee …" Julie leaned against the railing, blew a frustrated breath through puffed cheeks, and tried again. "Hah-gee-may-mosh-i-tay." She threw a pleading look at Light. "Was that even close?"

The brunet glanced away from the window and the sight of Sayu's newly-arrived plane. "That was pretty good," he answered with a smile, "although your stresses were wrong. It's hajimemashite. Try it again."

Elijah's mother nodded and forced her way through the word half a dozen more times before Light declared her pronunciation good enough. The brunet was definitely in a good mood. He had barely stopped smiling since they had left the house, and his tone had remained kind and patient even when dealing with brusque security guards or air-headed attendants. Elijah watched him with covert curiosity. This new, gentler side of Light still confused him, and he had yet to figure out how to approach it.

"Well, Light, now that her plane is here, shall we go wait for her at customs?"

Light answered Julie's question with an eager nod and set off, leaving the other two to follow him at a slight run to match his brisk pace. When they reached the check-in area for international flights, Elijah and Julie hung back a bit, but Light pushed right up against the railing separating them from the incoming passengers and began to look around expectantly even though they probably had a good ten or twenty minutes to wait. Swallowing a smile at his friend's excitement, Elijah closed his eyes, leaned back on his heels, and listened to the various languages that swirled around him. English, of course, and French. German and Spanish. A little bit of Russian walking by, some Mandarin, and once a snatch of what had sounded like Swedish. When he heard Japanese, however, he opened his eyes and began to pay attention.

In front of him, Light had perked up as well, craning his neck this way and that in a rather unattractive fashion. The sight made Elijah grin. Light was acting very young today, almost childish. In fact, as he continued to watch his friend lean against the railing nearly to the point of toppling over, Elijah wondered if he was perhaps seeing a creature of the past. A much younger Light, before he lost his faith in life and love. Before he became rigid, cold, and unforgiving. A Light who, quite possibly, would have picked up the Death Note and thrown it away.

A triumphant whoop snapped Elijah from his thoughts and made him jump several inches from the ground. Light had lifted one arm above his head and was now waving it back and forth.

"Sayu!" he called.

"Oniisan!" a female voice called back, and a heartbeat later, a small black blur had sped over and attempted to tackle him. The railing prevented her from sending him to the floor, but it did not keep her from throwing her arms about his neck and squeezing tightly. A flood of Japanese poured out as Light laughed and tried to disentangle himself from her.

"Idiot," he chuckled when he had finally succeeded. "You're done, right? Go around. I'll be right here."

"Hai!" she cried happily and dashed down the ramp towards the exit as quickly as possible.

As they watched her sprint away, Julie began to laugh softly. "She certainly has a lot of energy," she commented. When Light flashed her a proud and happy smile, she added, "Though I hope she can speak English."

"She can," Light assured her. He opened his mouth to say more, but instead he went lurching backwards as arms encircled his throat a second time. Behind him, Sayu launched into rapid-fire Japanese yet again while Light tried to turn towards her without choking himself.

While the reunion between the siblings progressed amid much laughing and hugging, Elijah took the opportunity to study the younger Yagami. He had not seen her since he had had Light's house under surveillance, and truly, even during that time, he had been too interested in Light to pay much attention to the sister. She had certainly grown, in height and in more mature ways. Her long hair flowed around a thinner, older-looking face, and her curve-hugging shirt and jeans actually had curves to hug. Back when he had "met" her, she had been rather cute; now she had quite definitely graduated to pretty. However, she still had that youthful sparkle of joy and mischief, blazing in her eyes and ringing out in her voice. It seemed her parents had not quite yet caught that spirit and bottled it up in the name of propriety and social acceptance.

"Sayu, stop, stop," Light finally said, holding up his hands as if physically trying to block the flow of words that came from his sister. "You can tell me all this later. We have lots of time." Smiling, he took her hands and led her towards the other two. "Let me introduce you." Slipping one arm around her shoulders, he used the other to gesture as he said, "This is Professor Julie McCormick who has graciously allowed me to stay in her house over the summer, and this is Elijah McCormick, her son and my great friend." Blue eyes flicked to meet brown at this last statement, and as they met, Light's smile changed, becoming deeper and also slightly sadder.

"Hajimemashite," Julie said proudly, only stumbling slightly over the word. Then, she added, "I'm so very pleased to meet you, dear. Welcome."

In response, Sayu took a step forward, shaking off her brother's arm in the process, and gave the two McCormicks a deep bow. When she straightened, she said slowly and in terribly accented English, "I thank you great much. I am being called Yagami Sayu. I am much happy to being here. Please to take care of me." She bowed again, so low that her hair brushed the ground.

Surprised, Elijah's eyes darted between his mother and Light. Julie had placed a hand over her mouth, and her brow had creased in worry, clearly wondering how best to get through the next two weeks with a young woman who spoke such poor English. Light, on the other hand, was horrified. He had taken a step back from Sayu and was staring at her as if she were some kind of disgusting and contagious disease. When Sayu turned to smile at him, he took yet another step back and raised a hand slightly as if to ward her off.

"Sayu," he began. "What the -- ?" But she cut him off with peals of raucous laughter and a finger shoved practically between his eyes.

"Oniisan, you should see your face!" she cried, her accent almost entirely gone. "You look like you swallowed a bug or something!" Giggling like mad, she wrapped one arm around her stomach and slapped the other over her mouth. "I knew that would set you off," she snickered between her fingers. "I just knew it would."

"Sayu," Light growled, his face slowly turning red, "that was not funny."

"Yes, it was," she returned happily. Before he could continue the argument, she turned and offered Julie a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. McCormick. Thank you very much for taking care of my handful of a brother, and thank you also for allowing me to stay in your home while I'm here."

Politely ignoring the fact that Light had begun to quietly steam at being called a "handful", Julie took her hand and replied, "You're very welcome. We're happy to have you."

Sayu's hand came to Elijah next, so he took it gingerly in his own. "Nice to meet you, Elijah," the girl smiled. "I'd say that Light has told me all about you except that he hasn't. He's quite terrible in that way."

"He may be better than you think," Elijah replied, giving her a small smile, "since thanks to him, I know quite a bit about you." Light rolled his eyes at this, clearly not appreciating the double meaning of the statement, but Sayu, who had no knowledge of it, simply smiled and reattached herself to her brother, this time around the arm.

"Let's go, oniisan," she said brightly, pulling on him as she tried to walk away. "I brought a ton of luggage, and you get to carry it all for me."

"You had better be kidding," Light replied, letting himself get dragged off. "You're only going to be here for two weeks. 'Lij and I are carrying two bags each, maximum. Any extras get to stay here."

"I don't recall saying I'd carry any bags," Elijah remarked to Julie as she released a soft sigh.

"We'll get a trolley," his mother assured him, slipping her arm through his.

As they began to walk together, he said, "It might perhaps be just me, but it appears as if Light's good mood, which he has had for quite some time now, disappeared almost immediately upon the arrival of the person whose coming inspired that good mood."

"That would be the Sister Effect," Julie replied with a laugh.

"So it's normal then?"

"Completely."

"I see."

When they reached the baggage claim they learned that, luckily, Sayu had brought exactly four bags. One, however, was empty which Light discovered to his extreme confusion. "It's for bringing back souvenirs," his sister had explained when he had demanded to know why she would bother bringing an empty bag all the way to America.

"Why didn't you just plan on buying a new suitcase if you needed it?"

"Why would I want to buy another suitcase when I have a perfectly good one at home that I could have brought?"

"I have an idea! I'll just throw this one away and then if the three you have aren't enough for the things you want to take home, you can buy a new one."

"No, don't! Oniisan!"

The bickering continued in one form or another all the way back to the parking lot. Julie didn't seem to mind it, for she laughed gently to herself the entire time. But by the time they reached the car, Elijah had had enough. He immediately climbed into the front seat and slammed the door, leaving the other three to puzzle over the spatial exercise of putting Sayu's bags -- including the empty one -- into the trunk. Eventually, the Yagami siblings slid into the back, their argument apparently over now that the bags had been stowed away. For some reason, this irritated Elijah even more, so that when Julie entered the car and told him to uncurl himself and remove his bare feet from the dashboard, he only spared her a short glare before returning to sulking with his forehead against his knees. Thankfully, his mother understood and let it drop.

Silence reigned in the car as they pulled out of the parking lot, but they had barely left the airport behind when Sayu began chatting lightly to her brother. She had reverted to Japanese again, and this time Light responded in kind. Elijah gazed out the window and let the words wash over him, soothing away his annoyance with their soft rhythms. The siblings talked mostly of family and friends; Sayu had stories and well-wishes, Light had the occasional question or comment. As the last of Elijah's foul mood faded away, he found himself wondering why the pair chose not to speak in English. Nothing said so far had been particularly private or would otherwise require the exclusion of the two in the front seat. After a bit of thought, he concluded that Sayu had simply wanted to be lazy and that Light had chosen to go along with it rather than fight it.

He went back to gazing out the window again, unaware that in a few minutes, he would suddenly be very grateful for their decisions.

"Misa gave me some stuff to give to you. Mostly pictures of herself, I think."

"Is that so? Thank you," Light replied dully.

"She's feeling kind of down, you know," Sayu continued, not noticing his tone. "She thinks you're neglecting her. In fact, she has this secret theory that you're cheating on her with some American girl, and she asked me to keep my eyes peeled for her."

Light sighed, and even without the help of the side mirror, Elijah could picture perfectly his friend's exasperated face. "I am not cheating on her with anyone. I'm just busy, as I've told her countless times."

"That's what all cheating husbands say," his sister teased with a giggle.

"Hmph. Well, you can play spy all you like, but you'll come up empty-handed. I don't get much spare time, but when I do, I don't spend it on illicit liaisons. I spend it with Elijah, usually, which is a far more pleasant arrangement."

Elijah gave the passing scenery a small smile. Light had been unable to keep the warmth and pride out of his voice. He knew that Light enjoyed their friendship, but it felt so much nicer to hear it spoken aloud and to a third party. A kind of happy contentedness spread through him in a rush.

But then Sayu spoke again. "I don't blame you one bit for that. He's really cute!"

Light erupted into a loud groan of frustration and disgust that made both Elijah and Julie jump in surprise. "I don't believe this!" he cried, instantly in a terrible mood once more. "I thought it was just American women being strange, but now my own sister!" Turning on her and ignoring her look of shock, he demanded, "Would you _please_ tell me what's so attractive about Elijah? He's too skinny, his posture is pathetic, his hair and clothes are always messy and rumpled, his eyes have this hollow, sunken look to them, he never smiles …"

_… he speaks fluent Japanese_, Elijah thought to himself resentfully as Light continued without pause. _But apparently that's not important right now_. His happy feeling had completely disappeared.

"… and as a whole," Light finished, every word hard and biting, "he's completely, unbelievably weird! Why in the name of all things normal and sane would you, or any other woman for that matter, think he's even remotely cute?"

Sayu did not answer for a long minute. Then, when she had found her voice, she asked calmly, "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes," Light answered immediately, for once not thinking about his answer or the possible hidden dangers of the question.

"Fine." Sayu took a breath and began to speak in an even, almost scholarly tone. "First of all, there's a difference between messy and dirty. Elijah's hair may be messy, but it's not greasy. His clothes may be untucked and a bit wrinkled, but they're not stained or torn and they fit him well. It's not that he doesn't take good care of himself; he simply does not care about his appearance or what others think of him. Social independence and mental strength like that can be extremely sexy, especially when it's not taken to the point of poor hygiene, like I said before.

"Also, when judging a guy for the first time based primarily on appearance, we'll always keep an eye out for potential. Potential is very important. Most girls these days have accepted that the 'perfect man' does not exist and that every guy will need at least a little work. Smart girls know that there's a limit as to how much work you can reasonably expect to accomplish successfully. After all, a fixer-upper may have charm, but if the foundation is crumbling, it's rarely worth the time and money spent."

"Since when are men comparable to houses?" Light grumpily complained.

"Since I said so," Sayu replied. "Now shush."

Elijah nibbled on a fingernail, eyes wide. He was having trouble believing what he was hearing. Not only was Sayu giving him a favorable analysis in the question of romantic potential, but based on what Light had said, other women had done the same. Enough women, in fact, that Light had noticed and become annoyed by it. He honestly did not know what to do with this piece of information other than the obvious: use it to drive Light up the wall whenever the brunet was being insufferable.

While these thoughts were running through his head, Sayu had resumed her lecture. "Elijah is calm, quiet, makes and keep eye contact, and speaks politely when spoken to. Yes, he does not smile much, but that makes the times he does smile even more special. I imagine most girls classify him as a lost puppy type, the kind that just needs a little love and care to become the perfect companion. His potential is high while his expected work level is low. Plus, anyone with a good eye can see that, underneath that sloppy appearance, he has a very handsome face.

"Now, as for you, oniisan," she continued with a smirk, "you are arrogant and aloof."

"_What?_"

Elijah swallowed a rather violent snort of laughter.

"Now, now," the girl soothed, "don't get mad. Try to think of it from the viewpoint of a girl meeting you for the first time. You're always so impeccably dressed, like you spend hours in the bathroom getting ready every morning. Always in the latest, most expensive fashions, always neat and pressed and sharp around the edges. Sure, you're fantastic to look at, but a girl's got to wonder how much of a handful it would be to date you. Would you demand that level of perfection from her? Is how she looks more important to you than what she thinks or feels? Plus, you always carry yourself like you know just how damn good-looking you are. Arrogance like that is a pain to have to break, and any girl with an ounce of empowerment inside her isn't going to just sit there and take it from you. Those things combined make your potential lower and your work level higher than Elijah's."

Light's unhappy voice rumbled up from somewhere around Elijah's back, suggesting that the younger man had hunched down deeply into the seat. "All right, I get it. You can stop now."

"No," Sayu replied relentlessly. "You asked me to explain it, so I will." Light responded with something incoherent which Sayu completely ignored. "Basically it boils down to this: you are the guy a girl wants to be seen with. You're the one she wants to show off, the one whose arm she wants to hang off of and smile and wave at the cameras. Elijah, however, is the one she's going to want to date. He's the one to cuddle up with on the couch, to buy gifts for and to receive gifts from. He's the keeper. Now, remember, this is all based on first impressions and visual appearances," she reminded calmly as Light continued to sulk. "But based on that, you are sharp, the knife she wants to use to stab her enemies in the heart. Elijah is soft, the blanket she wants to curl up with to keep her warm and secure at night. And that's why a good girl, a decent girl who cares more about herself and her happiness than her looks and status, is going to be more interested in Elijah than in you."

"I would like to interject here that I have never, _never_, had a problem getting a girlfriend."

"True, but how many of them did you respect?" When Light refused to answer, Sayu laughed gently and finished, "You know, I may be young and relatively inexperienced, but I'm not stupid. I did inherit a few brain cells of my own."

"Even if they are incapable of doing quadratic equations."

"Hey! That was years ago!"

"So you won't mind if I test you later?"

"On_ii_-_san_!"

A minor shoving match erupted in the back seat, much to Elijah's continued amusement. On a hunch, he glanced over at his mother and found her smiling as well. That smile only grew when, after a minute or two of half-strangled shrieks and shouts and quite a lot of kicking of seats, Julie cleared her throat and said in her most motherly tone, "Children, don't make me pull this car over to the shoulder."

Both Yagamis immediately stopped, reacting on instinct to the perceived threat of parental punishment even though, logically, neither had anything to fear from the small woman. The entire situation was so ridiculous that Elijah couldn't help laughing to himself, and Julie only made it worse a moment later.

"That's much better. Now, I expect the both of you to behave until we get home, or neither of you will be getting any dessert tonight."

When Sayu squeaked out a timid, "Yes, ma'am," Elijah had to bury his face in his knees to keep from losing his composure completely. As it was, by the time they reached the house, his sides ached so badly that he could barely breathe.

It was most certainly going to be an interesting two weeks.

xXx

Light stretched out in his borrowed sleeping bag and stared at the ceiling. All things considered, the evening had gone pretty well. Sayu had behaved very well at dinner, only teasing Light a few times, and both Julie and Rich seemed quite fond of her. Elijah clearly liked her as well, although he had said next to nothing all night as was his way with strangers. It seemed to Light that his sister would have no trouble adjusting to the household that had become his temporary family. All in all, he was satisfied.

On the bed, Elijah shifted slightly, and Light heard the sound of a page turning. That explained why his new roommate had not made any move to turn off the lights. A quick glance at the clock revealed to Light's frustration that it was nearing midnight. Throwing an arm over his eyes to provide at least some darkness, he sighed heavily and asked, "Do you usually read until this late at night?"

"No," the older man replied evenly. "I usually read until much later."

"I should have known," Light muttered to himself. After a moment, he added, "At least I'm not handcuffed to you this time."

"I could try to procure some if you would prefer that."

"No thank you."

"Very well. As you wish."

"I wish to sleep," Light stated with a touch of petulance. "If we're going to share a room for a while, we'll need to come up with an arrangement that's suitable for both of us."

The sheets shifted again, and when Elijah next spoke, his voice was directly over Light's face. "What's wrong with our previous arrangement?"

Startled by the change in the other's location, Light peeked out from underneath his arm to find Elijah partly hanging off of the bed and gazing down at him with his usual blank expression. "Our previous arrangement," he said, answering the question, "involved us both working until I collapsed from exhaustion at my computer. You would then continue working until three or four in the morning at which time you'd drag me off to our room and allow me to sleep in an actual bed for a grand total of two or three hours before dragging me back out again."

"The question stands."

Light sighed and dropped his arm completely. Elijah was playing with him; Light could just barely see the ghost of a smile hovering about the blond's mouth and eyes. Well, he could play, too, and he knew how to play dirty.

"One," he began, lifting fingers along with the arguments, "I no longer have a case to solve or a supercomputer to work on. Two, I am no longer a suspect in a murder case and therefore don't have to submit to your ridiculous whims in order to prove my innocence. And three …" He grinned wickedly. "… you now have a mother to whom I can complain and who will undoubtedly subject you to punishments far worse than anything I could think up should she learn that you're keeping me up at night."

Elijah blinked, then frowned. His face disappeared from Light's line of sight, and a moment later, the lights clicked off. From his place on the bed, Elijah mumbled, "You could have just asked me to turn them off, you know. You didn't have to threaten me."

Happy that he had won, Light laughed and settled into the sleeping bag more comfortably as he replied, "I may not have had to, but it's certainly more fun that way."

"Ah yes, I had forgotten that you are the embodiment of evil on earth."

"You are such a sore loser."

"Says the pot."

"Ha, that's appropriate what with all the tea you drink."

The sheets rustled as Elijah moved on the bed. "I was raised in England," he countered. "Drinking tea is a life skill there."

"A life skill?" Light echoed incredulously.

"Yes. A class dedicated to the proper way to serve tea is a required part of the school curriculum."

"Okay, now I know you're kidding."

"Am I? Perhaps you should visit some time and see for yourself."

Even though he knew the other could not see it, Light shook his head in response and chose not to answer. His eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and when he looked upwards at the bed, Light could just make out the edges of Elijah's silhouette. Experience had made him expect to see that figure in its normal hunched position, but instead he noted that the blond was lying down flat against the mattress. The revelation surprised him tremendously.

In all the time he had known the man previously called L, Light had only seen him lying down once before: when he had contracted a 24-hour stomach virus while working on the Kira case. L had wanted to keep working, of course, but Watari had stepped in and informed the detective that he was not going to leave his bed until he could eat a piece of sponge cake without it coming back up again. Light would have greatly enjoyed the unexpected vacation -- not to mention the opportunity to tease the sick genius -- had he not also succumbed to the virus at the exact same time. The experience certainly didn't rank among Light's most pleasant memories, but thankfully Watari had kept it from becoming one of his worst. The gentle old man had tirelessly cared for both of them, and he had remained calm and attentive through the entire ordeal, in spite of his bickering, ill-tempered patients.

"Elijah," Light asked suddenly in a quieter tone, "can I ask something?"

"If you like."

"You told me before that souls in Heaven get their own rooms and that they can visit other rooms if the one being visited allows it."

"Yes?" Although he could not see Elijah's expression, Light could easily hear the older man's confusion at the unexpected change in conversation.

"Did you ever visit Watari?"

Dead silence greeted Light for at least two minutes. The air around him had grown heavy and thick, and Light had to fight with himself not to fidget from the discomfort of it. He had known he was bringing up a sensitive topic, but he had not expected the tension to be so stifling. Even so, he did not take back his question; he wanted to know the answer.

Finally, Elijah moved. His silhouette disappeared completely from Light's sight, and a moment later, his voice answered dully, "No."

"Did he ever visit you?" Light pressed as if the long stretch of silence had not happened.

"Yes. A few times."

"Did you ever visit anyone?"

The older man sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice was stronger, suggesting that he had accepted Light's interrogation. "No. I saw no need to."

"Did anyone else ever visit you?"

"No. A few people requested visits, but I refused them."

"Why?"

"I simply had no interest in seeing them."

Light frowned to himself in the dark. He supposed that made sense, especially considering L's personality. A part of him wanted to ask about L's parents -- if he had tried to find them or if he even knew who they were -- but that question felt too personal to ask so he kept it to himself. Instead, he moved on to a different subject that had been bothering him for some time.

"The creature that sent you back down here … What did you call it? A soul monitor? What does it look like? Is it just another angel?"

"No," Elijah replied, "it's not just another angel. The monitors are high-level angels. They are not confined to rooms and have access to all areas of Heaven. Although I have no proof, I suspect that they were never human souls but are rather the original angels. That would explain their higher amounts of spiritual power and their ability to interact with lower souls while remaining invisible." This topic obviously sat more comfortably with the ex-detective for Light heard him shifting around again, his voice coming closer once more. "I have no idea what they look like. If they even have a physical form, my monitor never revealed it to me."

"I see," Light said, slightly disappointed. "I thought perhaps they'd look like Shinigami, except … I don't know … prettier."

"Perhaps they do," the other laughed lightly. "They certainly like to gamble as much as your Shinigami do."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

Light had to stop and laugh at that, but a moment later, Elijah's quiet voice sliced through his amusement with a question of his own.

"Light, why are you suddenly so interested in the details of Heaven?"

Light Yagami, otherwise known as Kira, paused. Slowly, the smile slid off of his face. The question had unexpectedly stunned him. He had an answer already, one with his usual cocky, devil-may-care attitude, but for some reason, now that the time had come to say it, he couldn't seem to get the words out of his mouth. And when he did finally force his lips and tongue to work, his voice was too high and thin, making the answer sound hollow and fake instead of joking and self-assured.

"Well, you know, I'm curious about these things. And it's not like I'll ever get to see it myself."

Light couldn't help wincing as the words died away into the quiet room. He told himself it was because of how pathetic his voice had sounded and not because there was suddenly an ache in his chest. The pain he felt right now had to be embarrassment at sounding like a squeaky teenager, not sadness that he had sacrificed his chance to experience life after death. Not sadness, and definitely not regret.

Elijah had moved again. Light could see his form outlined against the darkness of the room, could hear his quiet breathing. "Light …" he whispered gently.

Light quickly turned his back on him. "I'm tired now," he announced, the words short and clipped. "I'm going to sleep. Good night, Elijah."

Several long, heavy heartbeats passed, and neither young man moved. Even in the dark, Light felt as if he was being scrutinized by the other. He could practically feel those eyes traveling over his tensed shoulders, his stiff back. Eventually, however, Elijah retreated, sliding back towards the center of the bed, away from the edge. Softly, he responded, "Good night, Light."

For the rest of the night, the room was held captive by complete silence, disturbed only by the soft sounds of breathing and the occasional rustle as one occupant or the other shifted in his bed. Yet, in spite of that all-encompassing quiet, it was a very long time before Light fell asleep, and he knew, even as it finally claimed him, that Elijah was still awake and worrying for his sake.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: All right, the kids are in school, my computer is fixed (quite the saga, I tell ya), and I'm ready to get back into action. I'm going to shoot for an update a week. Let's see if I make it. ... crosses fingers ... Thanks for everyone's patience and support!

My thanks to MoonlightShadowLovesQow for pointing out a rather gaping plot hole back in Chapter 8 which I have now fixed. Guess that's what I get for trying to do multiple stories at once. Oh well.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Having Sayu around, Light had decided, was a truly wonderful thing.

"I'm not wearing those!"

"They don't hurt, I promise."

"But they're pink!"

"You're not going out. No one will see them."

"But ... but they're _pink!_"

Elijah had wedged himself into the chair, his body pressed so hard into the crease between side and back that Light suspected they'd need a crowbar to get him out. His large blue eyes were nearly twice their normal size as they stared in abject horror at the object in Sayu's hand. It was a very simple package: a sheet of flimsy cardboard, one side decorated with gaudy, eye-catching colors, and a small pocket of attached plastic to hold the product. The items inside the pocket were plastic themselves, small and thin, and very definitely pink.

"They'll keep you from biting your nails," Sayu insisted, waving the little package of fake fingernails back and forth in front of him. "Believe me, these are more effective and less embarrassing than me attacking your hands with nail polish."

Elijah was clearly unconvinced. "I do not require anyone's assistance in regards to my fingernails," he stated angrily, "and I absolutely refuse to wear those things."

As a familiar pout settled over his sister's face, Light decided it was time for him to step in. "That's not true, 'Lij, and you know it. If you didn't need help, you would have stopped biting your nails after the tabasco sauce incident, just so that you wouldn't have to experience something like that again." Elijah's defiant glare crumpled into a defeated frown, forcing Light to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing. "Tell you what," he bargained, "as long as you can keep your hands away from your mouth, you won't have to wear the press-on nails, but the _second_ I see them anywhere near your face, I'm calling Sayu."

His friend glowered at him, but his hunched shoulders and empty eyes told Light that he had won. "Fine," Elijah mumbled, then promptly shoved his hands beneath his body and sat on them. Sayu clucked her tongue at him, obviously disappointed that she couldn't perform a makeover on the blond, and wandered away. Footsteps on the stairs a few moments later indicated that she had taken the package to her room.

With peace restored now that his sister had left, Light returned to the newspaper in his hands. Across from him, Elijah looked out the window and sulked, no doubt irritated that Light had informed Sayu of his summer quest to rid Elijah of his nail-biting habit. To the girl's credit, she had immediately come up with a remedy that no one else had considered and bought the needed supplies with her own limited spending money. She no longer thought of Elijah as a dating prospect -- much to Light's relief -- and instead had declared him to be a second older brother, giving her free rein to jump right into the whole fingernail situation and essentially take over. Light had the feeling that Elijah would never forgive him completely, not that he cared if it meant his friend would stop biting his damn nails.

This recent confrontation had been the only excitement in an otherwise lazy Saturday, and at the moment, Light was enjoying the lack of anything important to do. He had no responsibilities, no real plans, no reason to try to accomplish anything. It was just a day to sit in the air-conditioning, relax, and enjoy summer. Considering how much conflict had been going on within the brunet, how many unfamiliar thoughts and feelings had been wriggling pathways through his mind over the past few weeks, he couldn't help but relish the emotional emptiness that came with something as mundane as sitting and reading the paper.

A sudden sharp poke to the head destroyed this momentary calm and snapped Light out of the article he was reading. He tilted his head back to stare with irritation into a pair of sparkling black eyes. Sayu had returned.

"I'm bored, oniisan," she told him.

"And?" he replied, pretending to return to his newspaper. "Why is this my problem?"

"Because I'm your guest," she insisted, poking him again, this time in the shoulder. "Entertain me."

Light sighed. He was rapidly rethinking his early appreciation for his sister's presence. "Weren't you going to go to a bunch of concerts while you were here?"

"Otoosan wouldn't pay for them."

"That doesn't surprise me." His eyes flicked across the room to a long-fingered hand that was creeping upwards towards pale lips. "Elijah," he warned, and the hand instantly buried itself in the cushions again, accompanied by an angry glare from narrowed blue eyes.

Another poke in the shoulder. "Entertain me."

"Entertain yourself," he shot back. "There's a TV, a computer in my room, and tons of books. Find something to do."

"On_ii_-san …"

"Don't 'on_ii­_-san' me. I'm busy."

"No you're not. You're just reading."

"Exactly! I'm _busy_ reading. Now stop bugging me or --"

The shrill ring of the telephone cut off Light's threat. Sighing gently, Elijah uncurled himself from the chair to answer it. Light's eyes followed him, his amusement returning as the older man carefully gripped the receiver with the pads of his fingers. Months of comments and encouragement from Julie had convinced Elijah to stop touching everything like it was diseased, but Light had yet to see the blond's palm actually make contact with anything.

"Hello?" Elijah said in his usual bored tone. A second later, his expression softened into a smile. "Oh, hello, Annie. … Fine. … He's fine, too. How are you?" Light shifted his attention back to his newspaper as Elijah continued to respond to the girl on the other end, using two words at a time at most. His gaze flew back to his friend, however, when the older man jumped slightly and a guilty and half-panicked tone entered his voice. "No," he said, "I haven't. … Yes, but … . No, but … . But Annie, I … . No, it's not his fault." Blue eyes shot him a worried glance, causing Light to lay the paper down in his lap and lean forward a bit in concern. "No, really, it's not," Elijah insisted. He listened to the girl for a moment, eyes growing wider and wider with each word she spoke. "No! That's really not a good idea! … I know, but they don't exactly get along. … But … But Annie … ! … yes … yes … okay. Good-bye, Annie."

The receiver clicked back into place. Elijah just stood there, fingertips resting on the phone, head and shoulders bowed, bangs hiding his eyes from Light's gaze.

Light waited a full thirty seconds before giving in to his impatience. "What the hell happened?" he demanded.

Elijah flinched but said nothing for another twenty seconds. Just as the younger man was about to lose it completely, he stated, "That was Annie."

Light resisted the urge to growl. "I figured," he replied dryly. "What did she want?"

"She wanted to know how I was. How you were. How our summers were going."

"_And?_"

"And," Elijah sighed, realizing he could no longer avoid it, "she asked if I had done anything else on my list. When I told her no --"

"-- she got upset at me," Light finished, leaning back in his chair again. His anxiety rapidly melted away. Picking up the paper again, he commented lightly, "All right, I get it. It's no big deal. Let me finish this article and then we'll go upstairs and pick out a few to do so you can call her back and make her happy."

"What list is this?" Sayu asked, hanging over the back of his chair and letting her hair spill down over his shoulder and right over the words he was trying to read.

"Last winter, Elijah made a list of things he had never done and wanted to do," he explained, brushing her hair away. "Our friend Annie has made it her personal mission to help him cross as many things off that list as possible."

"Oh, neat! Can I help?"

"Sure. I don't see why not."

"Light." Elijah's quiet voice cut straight into Light's mind, somehow ripping apart the peace he had regained. Surprised, he lifted his gaze to find that his friend still had not moved.

"What is it, 'Lij?"

"She's not just upset at you," Elijah answered, his voice a flat monotone. "She's decided you can't be trusted with such an important task as helping me accomplish the things on my list. She's decided to ask someone else to do it."

Light furrowed his brow, all his anxiety returning in a rush. "Who?"

Blue eyes finally lifted and gazed apologetically at brown. "Charlie."

In the horrified silence that followed, Sayu looked from one young man to the other curiously, tipped her head to the side, and asked, "Who's Charlie?"

xXx

Elijah should have known that this would happen. Logically, it made perfect sense. Both girls were exuberant, extroverted, and full of fiery spirit. As long as they didn't step on each other's toes in any way, they would be the best of friends, and Elijah doubted Sayu would be around long enough for that to happen. Dramatically, it also made perfect sense. Light despised Charlie and vice versa; of course, Charlie would be drawn towards Light's little sister, if for no other reason than to make Light's life even more of a living hell when she was around. Really, this outcome had been painfully obvious from all angles.

It still made him smirk, though, to think about Light's eventual reaction.

"Okay, this one should be easy," Charlie stated, pointing to one of the pieces of paper that held Elijah's list. "Lily has a bike you can borrow, and it doesn't take that long to learn how to ride. Just lots of practice."

Sitting next to her on the padded bench, Sayu clapped her hands together and pointed to a different spot. "Ooo! Build a sandcastle! I want to do that! I definitely want to go to the beach while I'm here."

"Oh yeah!" Charlie agreed, flashing her a bright smile. "That'll be a lot of fun! You brought a swimsuit, right?"

"Of course. Hopefully I can even have a little summer fling with a cute American boy. That will really set my father off." She giggled into her milkshake while Charlie laughed uproariously. Across from them, Lily gently shook her head and Elijah rolled his eyes while spooning another bite of sundae into his mouth.

Light had, unsurprisingly, refused to come with them to the ice cream parlor to discuss Elijah's list. He had almost forbidden Sayu to come as well, but then Elijah had taken him aside and promised to make Charlie swear not to mention Kira ever in the younger girl's presence. So far, the blonde had kept to her word, and truly, Elijah doubted it would ever cross her mind to break it. The two females were having far too much fun being … well … _female_ to allow a darkness like Kira to enter into their joyful minds.

A soft touch to his elbow drew Elijah away from the plotting girls in front of him and to the much quieter girl at his side. She smiled at him in her soft, shy way as she asked, "Elijah, why did you write this list?"

He shrugged with one shoulder and answered, "I was depressed." She did not need to know that the reason he had been depressed was because he had known that he had been scheduled to die in two months at the time.

"I see," she replied, dark eyes straying to her own ice cream which she had barely touched. It had been a long time since he had talked to Lily about anything other than Kira, and he had forgotten just how interesting she could be. She said almost nothing, yet her eyes, her small smiles, and her hands often told him what her voice did not. And if she had pencil and paper in her hands, she could speak volumes.

"What do you do when you're depressed?" he asked, genuinely curious to learn a bit more about her.

A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth, but he could see it was not a happy one. "I draw," she answered simply. Then, more quietly, she added, "Sometimes I think it's the only thing I'm good at."

Elijah lifted an eyebrow at the sad undertones of her statement. The thought of Lily feeling bad about herself didn't sit well with him for some reason. After a moment of thought and another bite of ice cream, he replied gently, "I think it would be a blessing to be as talented in something as you are in art. Even if it is your only talent, which I doubt."

Lily turned to him, and finally there was a real smile on her face. "Thank you, Elijah," she said, her voice stronger than a moment ago. "You truly are kind. It's no wonder that everyone likes you."

This statement made Elijah blink to himself for a moment. He knew that other people liked him, but he had never realized how pleasant it was to hear it said out loud. "Everyone …" he echoed, zeroing in on that word choice.

"Yes," Lily replied, her smile deepening. "Professor McCormick and her husband, Charlie, Annie, and Kim, Ethan and Mark, Light and now Sayu. They all like you very much."

She had left someone out, and he noticed it immediately. Something strange fluttered in his stomach at both the omission and the question that was rising in his throat. Looking down into calm, dark eyes, Elijah couldn't help but ask, "And what of you, Lily? Do you like me?"

To his surprise -- or perhaps not -- Lily's cheeks were suddenly dusted in light pink, and her eyes fled from his gaze to the melting ice cream in front of her. "I've finished those pictures," she said in a blatant change of subject. "The ones of you and Light. Would you like to see them?"

Elijah's lips quirked slightly as his thumb slipped between them. She had avoided the question, but he could read the answer all the same. "Yes," he replied to her. "I would."

"Okay. When you come over to learn how to ride a bike, I'll show them to you."

"All right."

He returned to his sundae, new thoughts and old memories melding together in his mind. Light always seemed to be rather insistent on setting Elijah up with Lily, but Elijah had always brushed it off as the brunet's attempt to be annoying. Now, he wondered if perhaps Light had seen something he hadn't. Light had far more experience with women and relationships than he did after all. If there was anything to see, undoubtedly Light would see it first.

Even if there was something, however, Elijah knew he didn't want a girlfriend. Certainly not this year when he had a mission to fulfill, strategies to plan, and battles to fight. If he succeeded and received a second life as a reward, then he would have the time to consider romance, although truthfully, he couldn't see himself being interested in it even then. Romance just wasn't his style. Sayu may have proclaimed him a "keeper", but he didn't really feel like being kept by anyone, or keeping anyone else for that matter. Not even Lily.

Although, he had to admit, being with Lily was nice. Elijah paused in his thoughts and glanced at the girl next to him out of the corner of his eye. She had gone back to playing with her ice cream, every so often putting a small spoonful into her mouth. Elijah watched her hands as they moved, allowing his thoughts to wander once more.

No, he didn't want to belong to anyone and he didn't want to be anyone's boyfriend, but it might be nice to have someone to just be with. Someone other than Light. His best friend had the tendency to command attention, even when he was relaxing, as if expecting that the entire universe hang on his every word and movement. Elijah didn't mind it -- that was just Light -- but it was tiring to be around after a while. Hanging out with Lily, he realized, would be extremely peaceful. All they would need would be a sketchpad and a puzzle book, and there would be quiet without silence, calm without isolation, and peace without solitude. It would be very nice.

He didn't want to kiss her, he certainly didn't desire her, but maybe when this was all over, if he was still around, he would ask her to spend some time with him, just the two of them. Yes, Elijah thought to himself as he finished off his ice cream. He rather liked the sound of that.

xXx

He stood in the rain in the middle of a city sidewalk. One hand held the umbrella over his head while the other sat in the pocket of his trenchcoat, opened in the front and billowing slightly behind him from the wind. The puddles around his feet reflected the lights from the buildings all around him, and a streetlight shone down on him, illuminating the area where he stood. His expression, however, clearly showed that nothing in his immediate surroundings mattered to him. His face held dissatisfaction, a hint of loneliness, and his gaze traveled off to the right and slightly down, beyond the reach of the canvas as it sat upon the easel, and towards another gaze that came from a second painting, held at the proper height in the artist's hands.

This picture was much simpler: a rocky mountaintop and a blue sky dotted with white clouds. There on the top of the mountain sat the fallen angel with his bare feet, his dark clothing, and his ethereal black wings. His face also held discontent and a soft kind of sadness that only those who have been expelled from Heaven can understand. His gaze traveled to the left and slightly upwards so that when the two paintings sat side by side, the two men, each unhappy and alone, looked directly into each other's eyes and formed an unmistakable, powerful connection.

"Oh. My. God," Sayu breathed, the first words spoken since Lily had shown them the finished paintings a full three minutes ago. "That's just amazing! Oniisan, you look so sexy and cool, and Elijah-niichan … !" Her voice failed her, and she just stared, apparently unable to verbalize her appreciation anymore.

Elijah stepped in for her. "They are truly wonderful," he said, smiling quietly at the girl who was trying to hide her bright red blush behind too-short hair. "They are meant to hang side-by-side and one slightly below the other?"

"Yes," Lily replied, trying and failing to look at him in her extreme embarrassment. "They each work as individual portraits, but putting them together significantly increases the emotional power of each."

"I agree," Elijah nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets, presumably to keep from biting on them. Turning to the man beside him, he asked, "What do you think, Light?"

Light swallowed his initial overwhelming admiration and smiled at Lily as he answered, "I think they're stunning, and I'm honored to have been a model for one of them."

Lily blushed even deeper, if that were possible, and hung her head a little more. "Thank you," she mumbled. Unable to take any more praise, she turned away to lay Elijah's portrait on her desk before taking Light's down from the easel and putting that one away as well.

As her friend busied herself with cleaning up and hiding from everyone's eyes, Charlie called out from the doorway, "As soon as she can, she'll make prints for everyone. Now come on, 'Lij. You've got a bike-riding lesson to endure."

Light watched in amusement as Elijah's eyes widened and his hands fidgeted in his pockets. The older man had been doing very well lately with not biting his nails. That was probably due in no small part to Sayu's tendency to follow him around with the package of press-ons. At this rate, Elijah was certain to break his nail-biting habit, but he would also most likely begin to have rather violent panic attacks whenever confronted with the color pink. It seemed like a perfectly fair trade to Light.

While these thoughts were passing through his mind, Charlie had reached into the room and claimed Elijah, pulling him from Lily's small workroom and down the stairs to the front yard. Light followed a few steps behind, Sayu on his arm, leaving Lily to join them once she had recovered from her embarrassment.

"Oniisan," Sayu said once they stood outside together, watching Charlie pull the bike out from the garage. "You don't like her very much, do you?"

"Who?" he asked. "Charlie? No, I don't."

"Why?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Although it didn't make him happy that his sister and the blonde bitch had almost instantly become friends, he had accepted what had happened. He knew what was coming next, however, and he didn't appreciate it. "She's loud and obnoxious, occasionally rude, and always poking her nose into places where it's not wanted. I don't like how heavy-handed she is or how she doesn't respect other people's opinions. She's foul-mouthed, stubborn as hell, and I just don't like her, Sayu. Honestly, I can't see how _anyone_ could like her, especially not a sweet girl like Lily or a smart, cheerful girl like you."

Sayu said nothing in response for a few minutes, just watching quietly as Charlie helped Elijah put on a helmet and knee pads. Then, just as the teacher was ordering the student to climb onto the bike for the first time, she replied quietly, "She is loud and stubborn, and I can see how her dedication to her friends would cause her to step into matters that are none of her concern. But you could just as easily say that she's earnest, tenacious, and loyal. It just … I don't know … depends on how you look at it, I guess." She threw him a small smile and added, "Maybe you should give her a second chance. You never know, you might surprise yourself."

His once-bratty little sister looked so mature in that one moment that Light had to fight away a wave of shock that flooded over him. All his previous thoughts about her came back in full force: how she was right there on the edge of adulthood and needed to be protected, now more than ever. Light felt his heart clench in a painful mix of love, pride, and fear, and he found himself unable to respond. Thankfully, Sayu did not appear to want a reply for she turned back to watch the lesson in progress, still smiling to herself.

When Light returned his attention to the driveway as well, he found that a fight had broken out between student and teacher. Charlie was trying to get Elijah to hold onto the handlebars properly, and Elijah was demanding a scientific explanation as to why he couldn't hold on with just his fingertips. Unable to give an answer or simply unwilling to try, Charlie rolled her eyes and slammed her own hands down on his, squashing them against the handlebars and ripping a high-pitched yelp from the blond that had Light biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Oh dear, is there trouble already?"

Light turned at the quiet voice to find that Lily had joined them outside and was walking towards him, her normal soft smile back in place.

"No, not really," he replied. "Just Elijah being his normal strange self."

"Ah, but that's part of his charm," the girl laughed. "Don't you think so, Sayu?"

"Absolutely!" She grinned and winked at her brother who just shook his head in bemusement.

The three watched as the bike started to move, Charlie holding onto the back of the seat and keeping it steady as Elijah got the feel of riding. As Sayu cheered in encouragement, the pair zigzagged out of the driveway, turned right, and headed down the street, gradually picking up speed.

"How long do you think it will take for him to get the hang of it?" Lily asked as they disappeared behind a row of hedges.

"Probably not long," Light replied, "considering it took him all of two minutes to learn how to skate."

They fell silent for a while, simply waiting. A minute or so later, Elijah and Charlie passed by again, the student frowning intently at the shaking wheel in front of him and the teacher running along behind, shouting encouragements and tips. They disappeared in the other direction, this time behind a tree as the road curved. Another minute passed, and they came by again.

As they disappeared for the third time, Lily turned to Sayu and asked, "Are you looking forward to our trip to the beach this weekend?"

"Oh, yes!" Sayu replied with a wide grin. "Very much so. It's been so warm lately that it'll feel really good to go for a swim."

"Yes," Lily agreed, "it has been warm. I --" She trailed off and her eyes widened as Elijah appeared again, this time by himself.

Sayu followed her shocked gaze and whooped with excited joy. "All right, Niichan! Way to go!"

Elijah glanced up at her in confusion. As he took in the sight of both girls cheering for him, he seemed to notice Charlie's absence for the first time. His eyes widened and his back straightened as he twisted around to look for her. Of course the sudden action made him lose his balance, and a second later he was sprawled on the street with the bike on top of him.

"Oh! Elijah!" Lily cried, sprinting off to help him just as Charlie finally appeared, shaking her head and laughing.

"What happened, McCormick?" she asked, squatting down to help Lily untangle him. "You were doing just fine there and then, boom!"

"You let go," Elijah griped, checking himself for injuries.

"Of course I let go," she replied with a grin. "I'm not going to run along behind you forever. Even I don't have that much energy."

Light had been laughing ever since Elijah had gone bug-eyed with realization, but now a hand touched his shoulder and made him stop. He turned to find his sister looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Sayu … ?"

"I like your friends, oniisan," she told him solemnly. He furrowed his brow at her in confusion, but before he could comment, she continued, "You never used to talk much about your friends. I knew you always had them, but you never used to hang out with them or bring them home or talk about them." She smiled a little as she admitted, "I was too self-absorbed in myself and my own friends to notice much or care, but now that I'm thinking back on it, I've realized. You never really liked those friends much, did you, oniisan?"

Light said nothing, not knowing if she wanted him to respond and not knowing what to say if she did. His silence obviously did not bother her, for she continued, "These friends, though, you like. I've only been here three days, and I think I've seen you smile and laugh more than I did the whole year before you left. You talk about them, too. That Ethan person and the girl who called the other day, Annie. And of course, Elijah-niichan. He's very special to you. I like that."

Carefully, Sayu stepped up close to her brother, slipped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his shoulder. On instinct, Light's arms encircled her, but a heartbeat later, he willingly pulled her closer into a warm hug and rested his own head on hers.

"I'm really happy for you, oniisan," she told him.

"Thank you. I'm … happy, too."

Amazingly, that statement wasn't just an automatic platitude. It was true. He had his sister in his arms, his friends nearby, and the prospect of a wonderful summer. He wasn't bored with life, sick of his peers, or disgusted with the world. He was here, in the moment, and for a while at least, all following moments promised more of the same. He was, as unbelievable as it seemed, actually quite happy.

"Good," Sayu replied to his admission. She pulled out of his arms and tapped him once on the nose as she finished, "Because you've been far too gloomy and serious lately. You need someone to remind you how to have fun and enjoy life. Dedication to your studies or your job is good, but you can't let it consume you or you'll lose yourself. And I'm not going to stand by and watch that happen to someone I love as much as you, got that?" She poked him once in the chest and flashed him a bright smile, but before he could answer, she was gone, off to talk to Lily and Charlie who had just gotten Elijah going again. Left behind with the memory of her warmth against him, Light smiled to himself and shut his eyes.

It seemed he wasn't the only one who wanted to cherish and protect someone else. And that, perhaps, made him feel the happiest of all.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Got bitten by the oneshot bug, so this chapter is a few days late. At least it's out before the week is up. And there's a bit of Elijah/Light subtext for rain angst, too. :)

I apologize in advance for the cliffhanger, and I promise to get the next chapter up as soon as possible.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

_Towel? Check. Sunglasses? Check. Suntan lotion? Check._

A shadow briefly fell in front of Light's eyes, and he looked up in time to see two twenty-somethings walk by.

_Beautiful women in bikinis? Check._

"Oniisan!" Sayu leaned over to smack her brother in the head. "Are you checking girls out already? We haven't even been here five minutes!"

Rubbing his head gingerly, Light glared up at her as best he could with the sun shining in his eyes. "Sayu," he half-growled, "I am a healthy, warm-blooded teenage male on a beach in the middle of July. You should be impressed that it took as long as five minutes. Besides, Elijah informed me that _your_ main objective of the afternoon is to find one or two good-looking guys and flirt your way into your first kiss."

Sayu's eyes widened, and a flush rapidly spread over her cheeks. Turning slightly to look behind her, she chastised, "Elijah!"

The young man in question paused in his attempt to help Julie set up a large umbrella and blinked at the pouting girl before him. "Yes?" he asked innocently.

"You weren't supposed to tell my brother that!"

"Tell him what?"

Sayu threw up her hands in defeat and stalked off towards the parking lot from which Rich, Charlie, and Lily were approaching, the first two carrying a large cooler between them. Light and Elijah watched Sayu go, one with an expression of amusement, the other with confusion.

"What did I do?" Elijah asked after a moment.

"Don't worry about it," Light told him, suppressing a grin. "Finish helping your mother."

Elijah shrugged and complied while Light continued to lay out and straighten his towel. He had been looking forward to this trip to the beach and was in quite a wonderful mood. Even the presence of the she-devil had done little to dampen it so far, although he had to attribute that mostly to the fact that she had ridden in the other car. Even so, he doubted she or anyone else could rattle him today, not with his plans to lie in the sun and let other people admire him for pretty much the entire time.

As Light began the process of smoothing lotion over his skin, Rich wandered by, now carrying the cooler alone. He placed it down by his wife's folding chair, grabbed the umbrella out of Elijah's fumbling hands, and finished its setup in five seconds flat. Julie threw her arms about him and cried something along the lines of "My hero," although when Elijah began to pout, she kissed him as well and thanked him for his help. Then she and Rich both settled into their chairs and proceeded to act as if they did not know the teenagers they had brought with them in a parental attempt to not embarrass anyone.

Light watched all of this with amusement, chuckling to himself when Elijah stared at his parents in confusion at their sudden refusal to speak more than two words to him, and then looked about to see where the girls had gone. He found them loitering near the parking lot, apparently having stopped to chat once Sayu had caught up to the other two. Only half conscious of the fact, he found himself comparing and analyzing them in that quintessential way that all males do when confronted with women in swimwear.

His sister had worn a bright pink bikini that highlighted her tanned skin and her long, dark hair. She was still a bit plump in places -- her upper arms, thighs, and belly -- but Light had to admit that she had a very nice body and it made him feel even prouder, and more protective, of her. Charlie, on the other hand, was all lean muscle. She wore a black bikini and had her golden hair in its traditional pony-tail. Light noticed with a twinge of evil satisfaction that she was rather flat-chested, but he also conceded that her athletic body would have looked ridiculous if curvy breasts had interrupted the sleek lines of her legs and stomach. Lily, unsurprisingly, wore a one-piece, its color a delicate blue, and she had wrapped a dark-colored sarong around her waist to hide her thighs from view. She did have breasts, Light noted, small but rounded and soft-looking, perfect for the gentle innocence she always radiated.

The three of them really were quite attractive, individually and as a group. And from the looks that they were receiving from males all over the beach, Light knew he was not the only one who thought so. His eyes narrowed a bit at the thought that a portion of those hungry stares were being directed at his sister. As long as they stayed stares, he would restrain himself, but if any of them began to border on anything even approaching indecency, he would have to intervene and reacquaint these hormone-driven pigs with their proper place.

His thoughts of vengeful retribution ended with an abrupt jolt when something bumped against his cheek. Surprised, Light shifted his gaze to find Elijah standing next to him, a bottle of suntan lotion in his hand. "I need to have this applied," he announced as way of greeting.

"Do it yourself," Light snapped, still irritated with thoughts of his sister's chastity in danger.

"I have," the other returned evenly, "but I cannot reach my own back. I require your assistance for that. In return, I will be happy to do the same for you."

A host of snippy remarks tried to seize control of Light's tongue, but he bit them back at the sight of those calm, stubborn eyes. Sighing, he snatched the bottle from Elijah's hand and ordered, "Sit down," indicating the end of his own towel.

The blond complied, pulling his legs up into his customary position and presenting his smooth, rounded back to the brunet. Light couldn't help but shake his head at how white Elijah's skin was as he popped open the cap and dumped a healthy amount of the smelly lotion into his hand. He slapped it onto the back in front of him and began to spread it out, wanting nothing more than to finish this job as quickly as possible.

As he worked, however, memories began to come to him unbidden. That white skin, pale as death, covered in tubes and wires as his dear friend lay comatose in the hospital. Looking at still fingers, wishing with everything he possessed that they would move, just a little. The overwhelming joy when they had. Light's own fingers slowed and he worked more carefully at his task, paying attention to where he spread the lotion so that he covered every spot and taking the time to massage in any white streaks that persisted after his initial application. More memories came to him. Another massage, Elijah's hands on his aching feet. That terrible feeling of despair and helplessness. Blood on his lips and tears in his eyes as he listened, just listened, to the other man's breathing and tried not to think of how soon it would stop.

Light bit the inside of his cheek to stop the stupid tears that suddenly wanted to spring up. He'd be damned before he let himself cry over a memory. And yet he knew he probably would cry come next spring; he'd probably cry more than he had in his entire life. He didn't want to lose Elijah, but he had no choice. His goal was far too important. So he couldn't really reach the ideal of which he had once dreamed, so what? Flawed or not, human or not, it was still important, too important to let go for his own selfish desires.

Gently, Light let his fingers glide over the pale expanse of his friend's back one more time, as if simply by touching him he could keep him there indefinitely. Then, he scooped up the bottle, flipped the top closed and dangled it over Elijah's right shoulder. "Here. I'm done."

Ignorant of the younger man's recent thoughts, Elijah took the bottle and turned slightly to send him a small smile. "Thank you, Light."

"Not a problem."

"Would you like me to reciprocate now?"

Light shook his head, sending wayward brunet strands into his eyes. "No thanks," he smiled. "I'm going to do some sunbathing, so I'll be lying on my back for a while. When I'm ready to flip over, I'll call you, or if you're busy, I'll just get someone else to do it."

"Very well." Elijah rose and took the bottle back to his own towel. Crouching down, he shoved the bottle into the bag he had brought and, in the next movement, yanked out a white T-shirt which he proceeded to pull over his head.

Light stared. Had he really just spent the last few minutes applying sunblock for the other man -- and undergoing some rather uncomfortable and painful reminiscing -- just to have his work negated by the presence of a shirt? The melancholy that had taken over him evaporated instantly, leaving severe irritation behind in its place, but he decided at once not to bother hounding Elijah for an explanation. The resulting argument certainly wouldn't be worth the trouble. Rolling his eyes, Light donned his sunglasses and flopped back onto his towel to begin his sun-worshipping.

"On_ii_-saaaan!" Sayu was back. "Aren't you going in the water?"

"Nope," he replied, not even opening his eyes to look at her. Lazily, he lifted a hand and shooed the air in the direction from which her voice had come. "Go have fun. Leave me alone."

He heard Sayu huff in mock-anger and a gentle giggle that was probably Lily. "Fine," his sister said. "Come on, Elijah-niichan. Let's go swimming!"

"Ah, but I have not had significant instructi--" His protest ended in a yelp, and Light opened one eye long enough to see his sister dragging the shell-shocked blond down to the shore.

Various shuffling and chatting occurred as the two remaining girls laid out their towels, but Light tuned them out. He was enjoying soaking in as much warmth as he possibly could, letting his body turn into jelly as he lay there and did absolutely nothing. It was heaven, pure heaven. Nothing could possibly ruin this moment.

"Hey, pretty boy."

That is, almost nothing. Light growled out a word in Japanese that surely would have made his sainted mother faint dead away and demanded, "What do you want, she-devil?"

Her shadow fell over him, making him frown even more. "Just want to talk for a bit," she replied in a strangely neutral voice.

"Fine," he said, "but move. You're blocking my sun."

Surprisingly, she did as he had asked and moved around to his other side to sit next to him in the sand. Light cracked an eye open to gaze at her in distrust. He was more than half expecting another round of Kira insults now that Sayu wasn't nearby, but the calm look on her face as she stared at the water made him doubt that assumption. And when she spoke, her words informed him how far off the mark he had been.

"It has been suggested to me that I might want to rethink my attitude in regards to you and give you another chance." She pulled one leg up and rested her chin on it as she continued, "I have a habit of making snap judgments and then stubbornly holding on to them in spite of what others say. I've never cared enough to change before, but in your case, I'm thinking it might be worth it to give it a try."

Light stared at her, not bothering to hide his shock or his skepticism even as she turned to him and asked, "What do you say?"

"What do you expect me to say?" he asked back. "'Oh, thank you so much for this second chance'? 'I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart'? Like hell. I'm perfectly happy hating you and having you hate me. You're a bitch."

He had thought Charlie couldn't surprise him further at this point, but he realized he had been wrong when she threw her head back and laughed at his insult. "Thank you," she replied, throwing him a wink. "I'm glad you think so."

"You're kidding me. You're _happy_ that I think you're a bitch?"

"Sure. You only think so because I have strong opinions and enough self-confidence to voice them and fight for them. That's feminism at its core right there."

Light scowled and shut his eyes again. "Being a feminist does not automatically equate to being insufferably loud, pushy, and rude," he argued.

"Well," Charlie replied lightly, "nobody's perfect. I have my flaws, but so do you. You're a textbook case in arrogance."

"Because you know me so well," Light sniped.

"No," Charlie countered, "but your sister does."

Concerned, he cracked one eye open again and glared at her from behind his sunglasses. "Sayu? What does she have to do with anything?"

Charlie was smiling at him, although it wasn't her usual smug expression that she used for Light; instead, it was a real smile, the kind she seemed to show only to Lily. "Nothing," she answered his question. "She was just telling me how much of a peacock you are in regards to your looks and your brains. And honestly, the fact that you're here working on your tan instead of having fun like everyone else goes a long way to prove that. If you're half as smart as she says you are, though, I'd be willing to cut you some slack on being proud about that. But not too much," she joked with a grin. "I have to admit that whenever I see some puffed-up pretty boy, it's always extremely hard to resist the temptation to pop his over-inflated ego." And to accentuate the point, she poked Light hard in the ribs.

Feeling his temper flaring and beginning to burn, Light sat up abruptly and tore off his sunglasses to glare at her. "And what," he demanded, "is the point of all this?"

"The point," she told him, not at all intimidated by his anger, "is that I want to try to get to know you, arrogance and all. And I want you to try to get to know me, bitchiness and all. And hopefully that will allow us to peacefully coexist if not exactly be friends."

"Why?" he shot back. "You still haven't answered that. Why should I? And why do you care enough to even try it?"

Charlie answered him by shifting her eyes to the water and inclining her head. "For them," she said in a significantly quieter voice.

Light turned and followed her gaze. Down at the shoreline, Sayu and Lily were trying to coax Elijah into doing more than just allowing the waves to lap at his ankles. As he watched, his sister's patience finally expired, and she began splashing the poor blond, getting him soaked in seconds. Lily scolded her and walked out of the water to take Elijah by the hand, once more trying to get him to come in with them. Elijah, presumably deciding that since he was already wet he had no reason not to go, let her lead him in and waded out until the water reached his hips at which point he stopped. Sayu splashed him a couple more times, but in retaliation Elijah ran his arm in a wide circle along the top of the water, creating a wave that drenched her and effectively ending the splash-war before it had truly begun.

Light returned his gaze to Charlie and found her watching the scene with deep fondness shining in her eyes. "For them," he echoed her words. "You mean, for Lily."

"And for Elijah," she corrected. "But yes, mostly for Lily." She rotated her head so that her cheek rested against her knee and glanced over at him sideways. "She likes him, you know."

"I know," he replied, nodding a little. The sudden gentleness in her manner had eased his anger and left him feeling calm and mildly detached.

"Does he like her?"

"No. At least, not the way she would want."

"That's what she thought," Charlie sighed, turning her eyes back to her friend. "Neither of us think there's someone else, though."

"There isn't," Light replied immediately. "'Lij just isn't interested in girls or romance in general." He also returned his attention to the figures in the sea and watched as Elijah showed a seashell that he had just found to the small girl standing next to him. "But if he ever does become interested," Light added to the blonde beside him, "I have no doubt Lily will be the one he chooses."

"Which is why we need to learn to get along," she insisted, poking him again, this time more gently. "I'm not going to go through life hating my best friend's boyfriend's best friend."

Light quirked an eyebrow at her and was met by that stubborn blue gaze, staring at him with fiery determination. With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he put his sunglasses back on and lay down on his towel once more. "Fine," he sighed with an extra touch of drama. "If you want to try to get to know me better, go ahead."

Fifteen minutes later, he was trying to convince himself that he wasn't enjoying their conversation. Thirty minutes later, he no longer cared.

xXx

Building a sandcastle, Elijah had learned, was much more difficult than it first appeared. Or at least, it was if you wanted something more than a single overturned bucket with a stick in the top for a flag. If you wanted something more aesthetically pleasing, something with a moat and turrets and a courtyard and maybe even a working drawbridge, it was much, much more complicated.

It was all the sand's fault, really. It had to be just the right consistency. Too dry and it wouldn't stick; too wet and it slopped everywhere. And it didn't help that the stupid stuff was all over his body. His hands, knees, and feet were covered in sand, and it had managed to worm its scratchy, gritty way up his thighs and under the collar of his shirt. He felt like a giant powdered donut except not nearly as appetizing.

"Elijah?" Lily called from the other side of their growing fortress. "Is this acceptable?"

He peered around the walls of the castle to inspect her work on one of the turrets. "You need a bit more support there," he stated, pointing to a weak spot. "Otherwise, it's fine. The rough edges will need to be smoothed of course."

"Of course," she echoed, already working on fixing the problem he had indicated. "Have you figured out a way to add a portcullis yet?"

"Not yet," he admitted with a sigh. He lifted a thumb to chew on it but stopped when he realized it was covered in sand. With a flash of annoyance, he wrapped his hands around his knees instead and let his eyes wander over the beach and its inhabitants. After passing over his mother -- reading a magazine in her chair -- and his father -- stretched out asleep on his towel -- they came to rest on Light where they stopped.

Around the time he and Lily and begun their castle, the sun-baked young man had deemed his front sufficiently tanned and had flipped onto his stomach to begin the same process for his back. Elijah had offered to fulfill his end of the sunblock bargain, but Light had entrusted the task to Lily, stating that he wanted the lotion worked into his back, not just poked at by tentative fingertips. Sayu and Charlie had already gone off together by that point, so Lily had agreed without complaint, leaving Elijah to watch and think about what he had been witnessing for the past forty-five minutes.

Somehow, Light and Charlie had managed to spend that entire time within a foot of each other without drawing blood. It was surprising to say the least. Even now, as Elijah sat and contemplated how best to accessorize his medieval structure, he found himself wondering how the two had managed it. Perhaps the girl had taken his advice and was attempting to get to know her enemy better in order to better fight him. Or perhaps Lily had finally worn her down. Whatever the reason, more unbelievable to him was that Light had agreed to the truce. Elijah knew his friend was just as unforgiving, just as stubborn as Charlie, and he had no obvious reason to accept a cease-fire or to believe in its integrity. Light could be cynical and vicious and held grudges with the best of them.

He also was rather vain, a fact that suddenly gave Elijah a most agreeable idea.

"Just a moment," he said to Lily. "I'll be right back."

She acknowledged him with a nod as he rose to his feet, a few loping steps bringing him to his friend's side. The brunet slid his sunglasses slightly down his nose as Elijah approached and peered at him over their rims with wary brown eyes.

"Yes?"

"Light," Elijah told him, "I require your comb."

"What makes you think I have one?" the other asked, suspicion evident in his voice.

"You take far too much pride in your physical appearance to not have one."

Light conceded this point with a slight head inclination and then asked, "Why do you need it?"

"For my castle's portcullis," the would-be structural engineer declared.

"'Lij," his friend sighed, pushing the glasses back up his nose and laying his head down, "I am not letting you get my comb all sandy just so that your castle can have a portcullis."

"I would not get all of it sandy. Just half of it." When Light lifted an eyebrow at him, he explained further, "Your comb is too long for my front gate, so I would have to break it in half for it to fit."

"Hell no. Break your own comb."

"I did not bring one with me."

"I'm not surprised. Do you even own one?"

"What an odd question. Of course I do."

"Could have fooled me."

"Elijah," Julie interrupted the mild fight. When he turned his eyes to her, he saw her holding up a plastic pick in one hand. "Here," she said, offering it to him. "You can use this. I have extras."

"Thank you, Mother," he said as he crossed to her and took the pick from her.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Your castle is very impressive. You and Lily have done a wonderful job."

"Thank you." He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as an extra thank you, then wandered back to his architecture-in-progress with his prize in hand. He arrived to find that Lily had finished her turret, and together they designed a way to add the portcullis to the front gate.

Some time later, when they were discussing how to add water to the moat without it immediately soaking back into the sand -- Elijah was in favor of stealing someone's beach ball, popping it, and then cutting it up to create a lining -- a familiar shadow fell between them. Elijah looked up to find Light looking down at them and their creation, a small smile on his face.

"Have you baked yourself to a sufficient shade of golden brown?" the older man asked with a smirk.

"I have," the younger replied, refusing to rise to the bait. "I thought I'd come see if you needed any help, but it doesn't look like you do."

"Yes, we are almost completed," Elijah agreed, "so further help at this point is unnecessary." He cocked his head at his friend and suggested, "Why don't you use this opportunity to spend some time with your sister?"

To his surprise, Light grimaced and shook his head. "No," he said. "Sayu's found a couple of targets and is completely engrossed in flirting right now."

Intrigued by this news, Elijah tilted his body to the side so that he could see past Light and cast his gaze down the shoreline, looking for the pretty younger girl. Sure enough, he found Sayu playing an informal game of volleyball with Charlie and two well-built, tanned blonds. The girl was giggling non-stop and missing the ball far more often than was plausible, not that either of the males seemed to mind.

Returning to his proper equilibrium, Elijah looked up at the girl's brother and remarked, "I'm surprised you're not down there breathing fire at them."

"Believe me, it's hard not to be," Light returned. His fingers twitched slightly, as if they wanted to curl into fists and beat the ever-loving crap out of something. "But Charlie said she'd watch Sayu for me," he continued, running one hand absently through his hair.

"Charlie did?" the older man echoed. When Light nodded, he questioned, "And you are all right with that?"

Light favored him with one of his classic scowls. "She and I have formed a sort of temporary non-aggression treaty," he stated. "I still don't like her, but because of what we've discussed, I feel I can trust her to take care of my sister if she says she will. I verified her views on the limits of decency and her thoughts agree with mine, so I know she won't allow anything I wouldn't. And I definitely trust her to kick ass if necessary." He huffed out a breath, sending his bangs flying. "Sayu will be fine," he finished, sounding almost as if he was trying to reassure himself.

Blinking, Elijah turned to Lily and stage-whispered, "Armageddon is upon us. Light and Charlie are in a quasi-agreement over something." Lily laughed softly at his comment, but it turned into a squeak when Light kicked out a foot and knocked Elijah over into the sand.

As it turned out, no asses needed to be kicked by either Charlie or Light. The two blonds behaved themselves, much to Sayu's disappointment, and by the end of the day, she had done nothing worthy of raising her father's blood pressure except take a ride on one of the young men's shoulders out into the ocean where she had been tossed, shrieking, into the water. Both had offered her their phone numbers, but she had wisely turned them down.

"So," Julie asked as the group packed up their things and began heading towards the cars, "did everyone have a good time?"

Elijah ignored the chorus of affirmative answers that rang out around him. He was _still_ trying to remove the last of the sand from his body. He and Lily had successfully made a magnificent castle over which everyone had marveled. Julie had lamented the fact that the tide would wash it away overnight, but Rich had taken a few pictures and half-jokingly had offered to get one enlarged and framed to hang in her office. Part of it had fallen down when they had removed the pieces that were not made of sand -- Lily had been adamant about not littering -- but the rest still stood, left behind to meet its eventual watery death. It had been a very satisfactory accomplishment, and quite fun if he cared to admit it to himself, but the side-effect of little grains of sand all over his skin was something he could most certainly do without.

He climbed into the front seat of his mother's car and immediately shed his flip-flops. Behind him, Light and Sayu slid into their respective seats, the girl complaining alternately about how tired she felt and how neither of the blonds had even tried to kiss her. Light occasionally acknowledged her with small humming noises, but most of the time he was silent. Elijah didn't blame him. They were all exhausted, from the activity and the heat, and the prospect of a quick, cool shower and then bed had never sounded so appealing. He almost wondered, as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway towards home, if he would make it the entire trip without falling asleep in the car, something he had never done in either of his lives.

By the time they were only about twenty minutes from the house, Elijah was drifting in and out of consciousness. Behind him, he could hear two sets of steady breathing as both Yagamis slept. Julie, thankfully, seemed to be fine and had said as much when he had asked, so he allowed himself to sit there with his head against the window and his eyes shut and let his mind and body rest.

A sharp squeal of tires was the only warning he got. In the next second, the car shook with a loud bang and the crunching sound of collapsing metal. Before he could even open his eyes, the world was spinning, the car having been sent into a skid that ended almost as soon as it began with another bang, the sound of shattering glass, and another tremor that rattled his teeth. More tires screamed from a different vehicle, perhaps Rich trying to avoid the accident that had just occurred in front of him.

"Elijah!" his mother gasped, her voice barely making it through the roar in his ears. "Are you all right?"

Stunned, he stared at her, but after a moment he found the presence of mind to analyze himself. The initial impact had thrown his body forward, crushing the seatbelt against his chest and forcing the air from his lungs. After the abrupt end to the side skid, he had banged his head once on the window, but he appeared to be all right. The seatbelt had sliced into his neck a little but not enough to draw blood. Deciding that he was essentially unharmed, he nodded, ignoring the throbbing in his head which only intensified at the movement.

Julie smiled at him, some of her worry eased, and then turned to address the two in the back seat. "Light? Sayu? What about you? Are you … ?"

Elijah's stomach filled with icy dread as his mother trailed off and her eyes grew wide and frightened. In the next instant, she was struggling with her seatbelt, desperately trying to get out of the car.

"Rich!" she screamed the second she had shoved the driver's side door open. "Call 911!"

As Elijah sat, paralyzed with shock and fear, he heard the beginnings of movement in the back seat. Someone -- Light, judging by the pitch -- moaned and coughed a little.

"What happened?" he whispered a moment later, his voice scratchy and dry. "Sayu? Do you know? Sa … yu … ?" His voice trailed off into a silence that seemed to last forever, a silence that somehow interfered with Elijah's nervous system and refused to carry the orders that his brain was sending to his body to move. A silence that had woven a spell around the world and stopped time completely.

And then Light Yagami, who had kept his composure through countless mental battles with a man who would burn him at the stake if he made even one error, who could plot out a man's death in painstaking detail and never bat an eye, who had a tight enough leash on his emotions that he could smile, charm, and reason his way through just about anything -- Light Yagami screamed.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Here you are! Sorry it's a little short, but I figured you all would want the resolution to the cliffhanger as soon as possible. :)

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Blood. There was blood on his sister's face. Trickling down from her temple across her nose to her chin. And higher on her head, a wide circle of it that had matted down her pretty black hair and turned it an ugly, shiny maroon. She wasn't moving, not at all. She must have been in pain -- her arm lay at an unnatural angle, obviously broken -- but she wasn't crying, her eyes weren't opening. Even when he screamed, she didn't react, and he just kept screaming, on and on, because she wasn't moving. _She wasn't moving!_

The door next to him flew open and snapped Light out of his panicked screaming fit. Instantly, he went for his seatbelt, fumbling with it with shaking hands. The second it released him, he lunged for his sister, desperate to see if she was still alive, to get her to just _move_, but arms wrapped around his chest from behind and stopped him.

"No!" a female voice cried in his ear. "Don't touch her! You'll only make her injuries worse!"

"Let me go!" he shrieked, struggling like a wild beast against the arms that were somehow too strong for him. "Sayu! _Sayu!_"

"Light! Calm down!" But the words never reached him. He had to get to Sayu. If he didn't touch her, didn't force her to move, then she'd never wake up, never move again. He needed to get to her; he _needed_ her to move. Didn't she understand that he was creating a perfect world for her? If she … if she … what would be the _point_ of _everything he had done?_

"Light!" the person who held him cried again as he continued fighting to reach the other side of the car. "Dammit. Elijah! Help me!"

Another set of arms encircled him, and together his two opponents managed to drag Light from the car and onto the ground just outside. Light fought them for every inch they gained, screaming the entire time, and as they forced him to sit on the road next to the rear tire, he landed a successful hit on one of them, an elbow to the stomach. Immediately, one set of hands retreated, their owner groaning in pain, and another female voice shrieked from a few steps away. Light surged forward, ready to use this opportunity to get to Sayu no matter what the cost, but in the next second, he found himself sprawled on the ground, a heavy weight on his chest and Charlie's angry face inches from his own.

"I said calm down!" she barked at him. "There's nothing you can do for her right now! If she's dead, there's nothing you can do; if she's alive, there's _still_ nothing you can do and touching her is only going to make it worse. You see this?" She shoved a hand into his face; it was stained with red blood. "This is yours, you idiot! You're hurt, too, so calm down and lie still before you kill yourself!"

Light's will to fight was draining away, his strength dissolving into shuddering vulnerability more and more with each passing second. Yet the fear remained, cold and relentless, squeezing his heart and turning his body to ice. "Sayu," he whispered in one final appeal to the woman who had trapped him. "She's my sister."

Charlie's face softened although she did not move from her perch atop Light's chest. "I know," she replied. "The ambulance is on its way. None of us can do anything until it gets here, so just lie quiet, okay?" She turned her head before he could answer and called, "'Lij? You all right?"

A low moan drifted to them in response, and Light turned his head to the sound, new worries arising at the pain in his friend's voice. Elijah was lying near the side of the road, Lily sitting next to him with anxiety clear on her face. "I appear to have emptied the contents of my stomach into a stranger's front yard," he answered her in an exhausted tone.

"Shit," Charlie commented. "An elbow to the gut shouldn't have caused that. Did you hit your head on anything?"

"Yes. The window."

"You might have a concussion then. Lie there and don't move," she ordered. "Let Lil take care of you if you need anything." Turning back to Light, she stated with a serious frown on her face, "I'm going to get up now so I'm not crushing you and aggravating any internal injuries you might have. But you'd better stay down because I won't hesitate to knock you out if you try to move."

Reluctantly, Light nodded. He hated to admit it, but she was right. There was nothing he could do, for Sayu, for Elijah, or even for himself. He would simply have to wait for the professionals to arrive. It was torture, though, having Sayu hurt so close to him and not being able to do anything, not even knowing if she was still alive.

Light closed his eyes as Charlie climbed off of his body to sit beside him. The girl rested a comforting hand against his shoulder, but he didn't care. Neither did he care about the pain that he had finally become aware of in his other shoulder and upper arm. The only thing he cared about was the person who had been left behind in that battered car, the person he had sworn to protect, and the only thing he could think of at the moment was that he had failed.

"Lily," Charlie's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Don't touch her."

Light's eyes snapped open and he turned his head painfully fast to look at the girl who had been addressed. She had left Elijah for the moment and was trying to open Sayu's door which, he could see now, had been smashed in by the impact with a large tree.

"I'm not going to touch her," she answered as she struggled. "I just want to see …" Her dark eyes met Light's as her voice trailed off, finishing the rest of her sentence for her. After a few more pulls on the jammed door, she dropped her hands to her sides with a defeated sigh. "I can't get it open, but it looks like she's breathing." She paused a moment, her face as close to the shattered window as she dared. "Yes, she is. She's breathing, Light!"

Light closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling a flood of relief so strong that he nearly drowned. She was breathing. She hadn't woken up yet, hadn't moved, but at least she was still alive.

Another moan and a series of half-retching coughs sent Lily back to Elijah's side. She bravely lifted his head into her lap and rubbed his back and shoulders until he calmed. "Are you all right?" she asked once he had settled.

"I do not think I have ever before felt so ill," he answered in his traditional flat tone. "Where are my parents?"

"Julie is over with the other driver," Charlie answered, "and Rich is setting up flares so we don't get run over. Do you need either of them?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Okay, then both of you just rest. The ambulance should be here any minute."

Light was more than willing to obey now that he knew Sayu was alive. Warmth had returned to his limbs with the removal of the icy fear, and it steadily increased as his mind began to turn. All his worries moved aside in favor of thoughts of revenge. Because someone was going to _pay_ for this. Someone would pay for the pain done to his sister and himself, for the fear and worry he had felt, for the helplessness and the shame. His anger grew, filling up the emptiness that the adrenaline had left when it slipped away. It burned within him, hot and hungry, but also tempered with the satisfying knowledge that he had the power to enact whatever punishment he deemed fitting.

He would start with the driver of the other car, making sure to draw out the death as long as possible and with as much pain as he could manage. Yes, the driver and perhaps anyone else in the car as well. And their families. They would all feel the fury of his wrath. They would all die for angering Kira. And that was assuming that Sayu lived, the fire in Light's mind reminded him. She could still die before the ambulance arrived or in surgery or in dozens of other ways. If that happened, the fire insisted, Light's resulting rage could very well consume the whole world. Without his sister to grow and flourish in the world he had created for her, everything would be meaningless. It could all burn. The whole fucking world. It could just _burn_.

As Light lay there, feeding Kira's bloodlust with his thoughts of death and destruction, the distant sound of sirens floated through the air and filtered through his anger to bring him crashing back to the here and now. His senses ignited, and he suddenly became acutely aware of everything around him. The sound of Elijah's shallow breathing and the muted crying of a baby somewhere close by; the smell of burnt tires, freshly-cut grass, and blood; and the physical sensation of small rocks and bumps in the road digging into his back, the warmth of Charlie's body beside him and her hand on his shoulder, and the pain of his own untreated injuries. It all flooded into him so deeply and thoroughly that he knew he would never be able to forget a single detail of that moment no matter how long he lived or how hard he tried. It had engraved itself into his brain, every last detail a part of him from now until the day he died.

The clarity of that single moment dissolved as the ambulance finally arrived, lights flashing and sirens screaming, and everything became a blur of motion. A police car pulled to a stop nearby a few seconds later, and questions and answers flew through the air from all directions. Light kept his eyes tightly shut against them and turned his head to hide his face in Charlie's lap. She jumped a little as he did, but he honestly didn't care. The shock, the fear, the worry, the anger, it had left him drained and too tired to do anything. All he wanted was for this day to end and for the next day to arrive, bringing with it news of his sister's fate and, subsequently, the fate of the rest of the world.

A paramedic must have come to see to him, for he felt new hands on his body and heard questions being spoken in an unfamiliar voice. He ignored them, letting Charlie explain whatever the medic needed to know. _Just heal me_, he thought, feeling Charlie's fingers thread through his hair and the medic's hands begin to deal with his injured arm. _Heal me so that tomorrow I can start killing. So I can kill and kill until the pain goes away._

_Until it all goes away._

xXx

They had diagnosed him with a concussion, as Charlie had thought. Light had had his arm and shoulder sliced up by flying bits of glass, but other than that the younger man had been unharmed. As for Sayu, they were still waiting. He knew she had received the brunt of the impact and the majority of the glass which had caused the broken arm and the cuts on her head and face. Other than that, he knew as much as anyone else who did not have a medical degree, which was close to nothing.

That left them here, sitting side by side in uncomfortable plastic chairs in the ER waiting room, Elijah with his feet tucked underneath him, Light with his head in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. The girls had left with Rich, in spite of their lengthy and passionate protests. Julie had put her foot down, however, and sent them home with promises to call as soon as she knew anything. At the moment, his mother was standing at the front desk, talking to the nurses and filling out page after page of paperwork. The woman who had been driving the other car stood with her, also filling out papers. She and the two children in the car with her had come away from the accident unharmed, and her husband had already been and gone, taking the children with him.

Elijah didn't like the way that Light had stared at the woman when they had first arrived. The brunet's eyes had been hard and cold, and they had not changed when the woman had apologized multiple times. Even now, the older man could feel the menacing aura of anger and violence emanating from the younger man, even with Light's body hunched over onto itself and his eyes fixed on the floor. Elijah was used to silence when around Light for neither man liked to talk when there was nothing to say, but this silence felt different. It felt dangerous, and Elijah had the strange feeling that if he did not break it, something disastrous might occur.

He had to be cautious, though. Even when people did not mean to eavesdrop, they still sometimes did. Carefully, he judged the number of people in the waiting room with them and their relative distances, then checked again on his mother in the other room. After a few quick calculations that produced positive answers, he turned to Light and said quietly, "Raito-kun?"

Light turned his head slightly to look at him, his expression heavy with a dark discontent, but said nothing.

After accepting that he would get no response, Elijah continued in low-voiced Japanese, "You have been extremely quiet. I am wondering what your thoughts are."

The other man replied in the same fashion, "My thoughts are none of your business."

"Actually, I am almost completely certain that they are," Elijah insisted, "and that is the reason why I chose not to address you in English."

Light scowled at him, but a moment later, he was grinning instead. He pushed himself upright and turned to face Elijah fully, his lips pulled wide and his teeth showing in the most sinister, predatory smile that the blond had ever seen on his friend's face.

"All right, Elijah-san," he said mockingly, "if you want to know what I'm thinking, I'll tell you. I'm thinking about how I want to kill that woman over there standing with your mother." He cocked an eyebrow at him in pretend interest. "So, were you right? Is that what you thought I was thinking?"

Elijah frowned at Light's obvious ridicule and, ignoring the reference to how they both so loved to be right, replied, "You are not going to kill her."

"Oh yes I am," Light returned at once with a little laugh. "And you can watch if you want. I remember you saying you wanted to watch me kill. As soon as we get back to the house, let's go upstairs and you can watch me write her name down." The smile slipped at his final words, morphing into an ugly sneer as Light's mind envisioned the murder he had been planning.

Elijah's frown deepened, but he knew there was more to this so he continued to push. "Did you not hear her say how sorry she was? How the baby distracted her? She is not some mass murderer without remorse. She is a normal woman who took her eyes off the road for one moment and had an unfortunate accident. She is not worthy of death."

"I don't care," Light said, the fake smile finally melting away completely. "Intentional or not, she hurt my sister, and for that she has to pay."

Elijah sighed and buried his face in his knees for a brief moment. He _had_ been right. On all counts. Raising his head again, he commented, "That woman is the mother of two small children, one of whom is only a few months old. If you kill her, you doom them both to a motherless childhood."

In reality, he hadn't expected that point to make much impact and had said it merely as a way to lead into other arguments. Light's response, however, was like nothing he had even remotely expected.

"So I'll kill the kids, too. And the husband. And the grandparents if you're going to complain about how heartbroken they'll be. The whole lot can die for all I care."

Rigid with shock and momentarily speechless, Elijah stared at Light with wide, disbelieving eyes. The younger man stared right back, stating with his gaze just how serious he was. The hard resolve in those brown eyes stirred Elijah's emotions, and he found his own anger rising the longer he looked at this man whom he called friend.

"You are acting like a child," he told Light. "Someone accidentally hit you, so you punch them back without thinking. Clearly, the mature thing to do would be to accept this woman's apology and forgive her. Would you care to explain to me why a grown man such as yourself finds this approach unacceptable?"

"She hurt Sayu," Light repeated stubbornly, turning away and crossing his arms over his chest. "And she hurt me through Sayu."

"And it was an _accident_," Elijah sighed. "I find it quite shocking that you are willing to put aside your great ideals and use the Note for something as petty as revenge."

Light's eyes slipped sideways to look at him, and there was something almost evil in their depths. "Well, you're the one who pointed out all the innocents that I had killed or that others had killed in my name. What's a few more?"

The anger within Elijah flared at this, fueled even more by the sight of what was clearly Kira in Light's eyes. "That is far too idiotic a statement for someone as intelligent as you, Raito-kun. Higuchi may have killed innocents out of apathy, the Yotsuba group out of greed, and Misa out of blind loyalty, but you never killed an innocent out of anything but the need to protect yourself. And none of those innocents died out of some childish desire to hurt someone solely because they hurt you. If you do this, you will no longer be able to justify your acts with words such as 'justice' or 'righteousness'. You will be a murderer, pure and simple."

Light's eyes narrowed dangerously, making him look like some kind of wild animal. "If we weren't both injured," he hissed, "I'd punch you right in the face."

"I'd say go ahead anyway," Elijah countered, not at all afraid, "except that I do not wish to aggravate this already extremely annoying head injury. Plus, my mother is coming."

Light turned his head just as Julie opened the door that separated the waiting room from the main entranceway. She smiled at them, but the expression looked thin and worn on her tired face. As she approached them, she shuffled a few papers around in her hands until she found the one she wanted.

"Light," she said once she had reached them, "I'm sorry to bother you with this right now, but do you and Sayu have medical insurance?"

Light blinked at the question for a moment; then his hand went for his pocket to retrieve his wallet as he answered, "Yes. It's with my dad. I don't know if it'll be accepted here though." He began flipping through the cards in his wallet, looking for the correct one.

"I know," Julie replied. "But the nurse at the front desk recommended we give it a try anyway." She accepted the card he handed her and glanced at it with a sigh.

"Excuse me?"

All three of them turned to find the driver of the second car standing in the doorway to the waiting room, a worried expression on her young face.

"Did … did I hear that right?" she asked tentatively. "This young man and his sister, they don't have insurance?"

"They're both visiting from Japan," Julie explained, trying again to smile. "They have insurance, but we're not sure if the hospital will accept it."

Instantly, the woman had closed the distance between them and was holding onto Julie's arm with a near-desperate grip. "If there are any expenses, I'll help pay for them," she announced. When Julie shook her head at her, she added, "Please! I'd be happy to. I _want_ to."

"No," Julie insisted, laying her free hand over the other woman's. "You are young and you have a young family. You need to save your money for your children. If there's a problem, my husband and I will pay for it." When the woman tried to protest again, Julie cut her off by saying, "We can afford it. My only child is grown. The only thing we have to save for is retirement, and truthfully, working an extra year or two is nothing compared to what you and your children have to lose." She turned her head to Light and gestured to the papers and card she held. "I'll work on these for you. You rest here."

"Thank you," he said gently.

"You're welcome, dear." With one final smile, Julie walked away and back to the front desk, taking the still-protesting younger woman with her.

Once the door had shut behind them, Elijah reverted back to Japanese and asked, "Do you still wish to kill her?"

Light said nothing, but Elijah could see his answer in the younger man's expression, dark and dangerous once more. Sighing, Elijah rested his forehead on his knees and considered his options. It was perfectly clear that logical arguments of any kind were not going to sway Light. The brunet was acting like a spoiled brat and showed no signs of stopping any time soon. Elijah wished someone would come give them news of Sayu. If they heard that she was recovering, perhaps Light would calm down and change his mind. Unfortunately, there was always the chance that Light would _not_ change his mind out of pure stubbornness, regardless of his sister's condition.

It seemed Elijah's options were limited. There might have been ones he had not considered, but he was currently angry and the violent emotion was disturbing his thinking process. His time was limited as well which made him prone to choosing a course of action simply so that he would not run out of time. The fact that he was mad at Light and rather disgusted with him as well made making that choice much easier.

"Raito-kun," Elijah stated in a low, even voice, "you are not going to kill that woman. Nor are you going to kill her children or any member of her immediate or extended family." Light turned his face to Elijah, scowling, but before he could say a word, the older man finished, "Because if you do, I am going to kill you."

Eyebrows shot into brunet bangs and brown eyes opened wide as Light stared at him. "What?" he whispered.

Elijah's cold blue eyes bored into Light, fixing him with their intensity. "If you do something as immature and unjust as taking revenge against that innocent woman and her family, then I will lose all respect for you as a friend and as a person. With my respect for you gone, I will no longer have any qualms about destroying you as a way to destroy Kira and fulfill my mission. I have an infinite lifespan, as you know. I cannot be killed. If that woman dies, I will either stab you with a knife from my mother's kitchen or strangle you with my bare hands, and though you may fight back, there will be no way that you can save yourself since I am incapable of dying."

Light's eyes were blazing, but it was a caged, impotent fire, forced to threaten uselessly behind glass walls. Elijah felt an evil twinge of satisfaction at the sight and decided to give in to the urge to twist the dagger one more time before withdrawing.

"Perhaps you can use this opportunity to grow up a little, Raito-_chan_."

He never saw the fist coming, just felt it connect with his cheek and send him flying off of his chair onto the floor. Stars burst painfully in front of his eyes as the world spun, refusing to allow him to get to his feet. Somehow through his blurred vision, he could just make out Light's form, towering above him, seething with barely-repressed fury.

Elijah managed to get one solid kick to Light's stomach before the world turned upside down and he passed out.

xXx

Light lay on his bed in the McCormick's house, fists pressed tightly against his eyes and jaw clenched shut in an attempt not to scream in frustration. Julie had called Rich to come take Light home. The woman had bought his bullshit excuse about his exhaustion and worry over Sayu wearing down his temper until he had snapped and punched Elijah, but she had refused to let him stay after that. A nurse had rebandaged his arm which had begun to bleed again, and then Julie had sent him away. Now, Elijah and Sayu were both in observation rooms in the hospital, Julie was there to watch over them, and he was here at the house, unable to even be by his sister's bedside to comfort her.

She had regained consciousness; that message had been waiting for them on the machine when he and Rich had arrived at the house. Sayu was conscious, coherent, and expected to make a complete recovery. But they had no intention of releasing her until tomorrow, and Light could not see her until then. It made Light want to jump up off the bed and smash everything in the room, to beat someone to death with his bare hands. Never before had he felt so powerless, so completely stripped of control.

This whole ordeal had been one lesson in futility after another. Unable to help anyone in the immediate aftermath of the accident, unable to do anything but wait in the hospital, unable to get to his sister's side now that she was safe, and -- the final blow -- unable to punish anyone or enact any sort of retribution for what had happened because of the threat that Elijah had hung over his head. How could someone with his intelligence, skills, charms, resources, and the ultimate power of life and death over all other human beings, how could someone like him be so completely useless? It couldn't be possible. It just couldn't be!

Light swallowed the scream that rose in his throat and tried to escape through clenched teeth. And the worst thing about the day was that another thought had been making its way into his mind, steadily growing in strength in spite of all the efforts he put in to stop it. The realization that he hadn't protected her. That he _couldn't_ protect her. That even if he somehow managed to create an ideal world within their lifetimes, a world where crime and violence did not exist except in name, even then accidents and illnesses would happen, and he would be able to do nothing. He would not be able to save her if she died in a plane crash or got sick from cancer or pneumonia. Hell, she could trip and fall on the fucking _stairs_ and he wouldn't be able to do a thing. He couldn't protect her. He could take life, but he couldn't give it and he couldn't preserve it. The power he had wasn't really power at all. All it was was a glorified murder weapon.

One of Light's fists fell away from his eyes and began to pound the pillow instead. His body shook with suppressed screams that eventually transformed into quietly released sobs. In the darkness of his room, he cried away his anger and his frustration, slowly calming, bit by bit, until he finally fell asleep with the pillow clutched to his chest.

Outside of the window, a new day dawned.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Well, my dear readers, prepare yourselves for a mass of stream-of-consciousness philosophizing from our favorite would-be deity. I should also probably add the disclaimer that the religious ideas presented in this chapter are not necessarily my own and should not be taken as evangelizing in any way. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 15**

"Light?"

He opened his eyes at the sound of his name being spoken by a soft female voice. There, on the bed beside him, sat Julie, dressed in a nightgown and bathrobe and looking exhausted. All the horrors of the previous night began to seep into his mind, slowly but steadily, creeping and slithering through his foggy brain like vipers. Fear. Anger. Frustration. Futility. Despair.

"Light," Julie said again, capturing his attention. As soon as she noticed his gaze on her, she smiled and told him, "Rich just called from the hospital. Sayu is doing fine. They're going to do a few more checkups, get some breakfast into her, and then she and Elijah will both be discharged." She tucked some loose hair behind her ear and stifled a yawn before adding, "I thought you'd want to be awake to welcome them."

"Thank you," Light rasped, his voice hoarse from sleep. He sat up in bed and rubbed at a sore spot in his neck. His head hurt a little, too, and his stomach felt slightly sick. Physically, he felt a right mess. Mentally, he was not that much better.

"Would you like me to make you some breakfast?" Julie asked him.

Lifting his eyes to her, he noticed again how tired she looked and wondered just when she had made it home the previous night. It was very likely, based on what had happened yesterday and when, that she had not slept at all yet. "No thank you," he replied to her offer. "I can get something for myself when I get hungry. You should go back to bed."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Julie rose to her feet and tenderly smoothed Light's hair a few times to tame the few strands that were sticking every which way. "All right," she said. "But come get me if you need me."

"I will," he assured her. "Now go rest. Don't worry about me."

She nodded and, after one final smile, left the room, closing the door behind her.

Left alone with his thoughts, Light gazed out the window at the morning sunlight. Birds were twittering at each other in the trees, and occasionally he heard the chatter of an irritated squirrel as it scolded a companion or a passing dog, out with its owner for a walk. The air that entered through his partly open window was cool, but it was already warming. Soon, the world outside would be bright and hot as the sun burned away the last traces of night, taking with it all the darkness and nightmares that had haunted men's dreams as they slept.

Light knew, however, that his nightmares would remain. The sight of so much blood on Sayu's face, the fear and panic that took complete control. Those would stay with him forever. And the brightness that would light the world, the warmth that would beat down upon it and seep into its core, they would not touch him. He was tired, empty, and drained. He didn't want to exist anymore. His emotions were tearing him to pieces, and his logic -- his comfort in times like these -- was leading him down roads he didn't want to acknowledge existed much less travel. He felt a strange, almost sick desire to bury himself under the covers and just stay there until he died. He had never been depressed before, but as he gazed sightlessly out the window, he found himself supposing that this must be what it felt like.

"Come on now, Light," he murmured to himself. "Snap out of it. Your parents didn't raise you to be crippled by something like depression. If they could see you now, they'd …" His voice died and his eyes widened as realization hit him. He hadn't called his parents yet to tell them about the accident. Dear God, his father was going to have another heart attack, and his mother was going to cry herself sick. Perhaps he should just wait and have Sayu tell them herself when she got back. Yes, that was a good idea. She could reassure them that she was fine and laugh their anxieties away. That would be much better than having him try to convince them that there was nothing to worry about. Because, honestly, he still needed some reassurance himself.

It was all falling apart. Everything he believed in, everything he had worked for. It was crashing down around his head, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. This was worse than when Lily and Charlie had destroyed his dream to rule over the world as God. Much worse. They had simply torn down his self-imposed illusion and shown him just how human he truly was. Intelligent and dedicated, yes, but human, not a god. He could still believe in the fundamental value of his goals, could immerse himself in the satisfaction of working without thought of self in order to benefit another. Now, even that had been torn out from under him, and he found himself wondering if there was any dream left that he could cling to, if there had been any outcome other than failure from the very beginning.

Heaving a great sigh, Light flopped backwards onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had picked up that thin black notebook for the first time and opened the cover to read the instructions written on the inside. Back then, he had wanted to use it to bring justice to those who needed it, to punish the criminals who had fallen through the cracks, and to discourage crime and violence across the board. Then, L had entered the picture, and it had become a game, a race to see who found whom first, to see who would live and who would die. He had wanted to win more than anything, and it had overshadowed his original dream. Rather than ignore L and continue on in secured anonymity, he had risen to the bait and played the game with everything he possessed. And he had won, but at the price of the purity of his intentions.

It wasn't about justice anymore, and Light knew that. It was about Kira. Only Kira. The internet was rife with websites devoted to Kira, and people all over the world were posting pictures of people they wanted killed. Some crackpots were starting to post pictures of themselves, so that they could have the honor of being killed by Kira. According to his dad, a television show was in the works that would praise the glory of Kira with an almost religious fanaticism. A year or so ago, Light knew he would have been thrilled to no end by the news; now, he felt sick. None of his fans loved him for his intelligence, his dedication, or his commitment to justice; they loved him for his power. They would die for him, and they would kill for him. They were everything that Kira wanted and nothing that Light Yagami, high-school student and future police officer, would ever condone.

Fingers threaded through messy brown hair and gripped tightly. What had happened to that student from so long ago? He had been disillusioned with the world and its justice system and heartsick for the victims that suffered every day, but he had not been power-mad or cruel or ruthless to the point of sacrificing his integrity upon the altar of victory. The game had made him that way. L, personal pride, and the inability to back down. They had changed him and he hadn't even noticed. Hadn't paused for a second before barreling down that road to hell.

What if he had never played the game? What if he had focused, not on his fame and his own rewards, but on his goals? Had never killed Lind L. Tailor, leaving L to continue his broadcasts until he gave up empty-handed and turned elsewhere? Would L have found him anyway or would he have eluded those dark eyes forever? Would the world's view of Kira contained the same degree of madness that seemed to worsen daily or would they have received the benefit of his pure intentions and remained pure themselves? It was too late to speculate on that now, but maybe it wasn't too late to fix it. Because in spite of the fact that he couldn't protect anyone and in spite of the fact that he couldn't make the world perfect, he had done some good through his actions.

In a sudden burst of energy, Light sat up and twisted his body until his feet hit the floor. Yes, he had done good. He knew he had. Misa was proof of it. Elijah and Lily could think what they wanted, but there were people out there who were at peace now because Light had delivered justice to the ones who had hurt them. And while it was all just speculation at this point, he would be willing to swear that there were people out there who were alive and happy right now because he had killed someone who would have hurt them in the future. Whether that good outweighed the destruction and sorrow he had caused, he didn't know. But at least no one could say that everything he had done had been in vain.

Making the snap decision to try an experiment, Light rose from the bed and crossed to his desk where he pulled out a single sheet of normal notebook paper and a pen. He sat down in the chair and then closed his eyes to concentrate. He wanted to imagine what it would feel like if he had enacted the revenge he had wanted to take last night. The image from the car easily rose into his mind -- blood, bones at odd angles, complete stillness -- and soon his chest was aching with grief and anger. He allowed himself to believe that his sister had actually died and let the negative emotions fill him fully, building and growing until he thought they would consume him. When he could take no more, he opened his eyes, placed the tip of the pen to the paper, and wrote the name of the woman who had been driving the other car. Once his fingers had made the last stroke, he let his imagination take control again, this time watching as the woman fell, her face contorted in agony, the light in her eyes dulling to nothingness. As her body stilled within his mind, he again brought up the image of Sayu and asked himself a question.

_Now, Light, do you feel any better?_

He considered. His sister's broken body lay before him, her spirit gone from the world. Did he feel better for killing the one who had killed her?

No. He didn't. The part of him that wanted revenge, that wanted to hurt for the sake of hurting, felt smug and satisfied, but the ache hadn't disappeared. The sadness at losing her was still there; the emptiness still existed. He would still see Sayu's presence in his home and in dozens of other locations around his town. There would still be a vacancy in his heart where she had once resided; the other woman's death would not fill it. Now that he was forcing himself to confront it, he had to admit to himself that killing her would have done nothing to ease his grief. Elijah had been right. It would have been a pointless action, childish and cruel.

Light crumpled up the notebook paper and threw it in the wastebasket. So, he would not have been able to comfort himself in the same way that he had comforted Misa and all the others. As he leaned his elbow against the desk and rested his head in his hand, he wondered if there would have been any way for him to comfort himself. How did one deal with a grief as deep and consuming as the loss of a loved one? He had been avenging the loss of loved ones for years now, and yet he had never stopped to think about what it actually felt like to lose. All the relatives he had buried had been old and at the end of long lives. He had never had to say goodbye to someone whose life had been cut short, to someone young and promising like his sister.

A sister. Light shut his eyes against the thoughts that were taking over his mind. Lily had had a sister, one who had died young. Her grief had been evident, and yet it had not robbed her of the ability to function the way Misa's had. Lily did not require Light's death in order to live; she did not even want it. Unlike Misa, she had found the strength to continue moving forward even as the weight of her sorrows bore down upon her shoulders. Within his mind, Light began to pick apart the quiet girl's character, searching for the answers he wanted. How was Lily different than Misa and different than himself? What did she have that they did not?

For one, she had the capacity and the willingness to forgive. Kira had killed her sister without a shred of remorse, just as the man who had murdered Misa's family had, and yet Lily had found it within her heart to put aside her own grievances with Kira and wish only for him to stop hurting others. Light truly doubted he would ever be able to forgive like that. Forgiveness was hard. It took a maturity and a self-sacrifice beyond anything he had ever attempted to simply accept pain and then let go of it for good. He had never tried to turn the other cheek; it was far too easy to give in to the pain and anger and fight back.

For another, Lily had an abundance of faith. The girl believed in a God who was kind, who was forgiving, and who had a plan, one that was too grand and complicated for a single man to comprehend. While she had never said so, Light had no doubt she believed in Heaven and thought that Rose was now there, free from suffering. It was a pretty little dream, one that millions shared, but Light knew that at least part of it was only fantasy. Heaven may have existed, but there was no one watching them from above and guiding the actions of the people of the world as they moved through life. There were no guardian angels floating over shoulders, no one listening to the multitude of prayers that rose to the sky, no master plan. Elijah had said it himself: Heaven had a "non-interference" policy. God was a sham, either too lazy or too apathetic to pay attention to the world He had created and abandoned.

The pen in Light's hand began to dance upon his desk as his mind continued to turn. So many people across the world and across the ages believed in at least some form of higher power, whether it was a single God or a pantheon of deities. Sometimes it seemed that faith was a prerequisite to being human. Light had never believed, though. That had been part of the reason why he wanted to _become_ a God, to fill that void that he knew in his scientific heart existed. Thus, Kira had been born, a God of fire and brimstone, a ruler who tolerated no opposition and who doled out the ultimate punishment for a single sin.

Light sighed and crossed his arms upon the desk, laying his head down on top of them. He had to admit, that wasn't the kind of God he had wanted for the world. He _wanted_ the kind that the churches all insisted existed: watchful, merciful, protective. He wanted a God who acted like a parent. Like Julie who was soft and loving and supportive. Like his father who laid down the rules for discipline but allowed them to bend when necessary and who gave out punishments appropriate to the situation. Like his mother who looked out for him and always made sure he had what he needed when he needed it. He wanted God to be a parent. After all, that's why they called him The Father, wasn't it?

But God wasn't a father, at least not the kind who would end up with responsible, well-behaved kids. God and his angels sat back, let mankind do whatever the hell it pleased, and then handed out bandages and aspirin once the dust had cleared. That wasn't the kind of God the world needed. And yet, Kira wasn't a good father either. Kira was a drill sergeant who laid down strict rules and disowned anyone who didn't follow them. There wasn't a shred of mercy or remorse in the way that Kira ran the world. And, much to his chagrin, Light was beginning to see that the world didn't need that kind of God either. The God he wanted for the world, the kind that the world so desperately needed, didn't exist.

Suddenly tired, Light dipped his chin down and hid his face within his arms. His headache was getting worse. He had been thinking non-stop since he had woken up, and as far as he could tell, he hadn't gotten anywhere. He needed to stop letting his thoughts run free and focus. In particular, he needed to decide what he was going to do from here on out. Both his initial and his replacement plans for the Death Note had been smashed. He had to decide whether he had the energy to look for a third or whether he should admit defeat and give up.

On the positive side, if he gave up the Death Note, he would save Elijah. Last night, he had been furious at the blond, but all that anger and frustration had faded, showing him that the older man had been right and he, caught up as he had been in his violent emotions, had been wrong. A tiny smirk lifted the corner of Light's mouth. The fact that he could so easily think those words to himself revealed just how much he had changed in the past year. Before, he never would have allowed the thought to cross his mind, even when alone like this. Now, however, Light recognized his own fallibility, and while admitting it still stung, he had somewhere along the line acquired the strength to state it.

But he was supposed to be focusing, he reminded himself with a little shake of his head. Again, a benefit of giving up the Death Note was Elijah. Another was that, if he stopped now, the probability that he would have to deal with L's heirs would decrease dramatically. He would no longer have to spend large portions of time locked in battle, fearing for his life. On the other hand, if he stopped his judgments, the criminals would return. They would come crawling out of the woodwork and start polluting the world once more. If he continued on as Kira, he would lose Elijah and invite unwanted attention from those bent on capturing him, but he would be able to keep the scum of the world in check and maintain the image of purity even if it wasn't perfect. And this time, perhaps, he would be able to do it right.

Deep in his heart, Light knew he wanted his crime-free world more than he wanted Elijah. With each passing day, his attachment to the other man grew, but it was still nowhere near as strong as his desire for an all-encompassing justice. The problem now was whether he still believed he could obtain it or whether he would be forced to admit that it was an impossible dream as Elijah believed. And if it was impossible, which would be less selfish: giving it up for Elijah's sake or continuing on in order to do as much good as he could with the time he had been given? He couldn't help but feel that wanting Elijah to stay with him was selfish, and he was tired of being selfish. He had been selfish for a long time. He had been living for the thrill of the game, devouring the adoration and the reverence of the people, and basking in the glow of ultimate power. He had been greedy, self-serving, and ultimately extremely stupid. It was time to go back to the ideals that had started this whole thing in the first place: personal sacrifice for the sake of others.

And that meant giving up Elijah. Didn't it? Light lifted his head from his arms and dug fisted fingers into his eyes instead. He had acknowledged his mistakes and was willing to change them, so if he gave up without trying to fix his errors simply for the sake of helping Elijah, that would be a selfish decision on his part. But what if he went back to the ideals he had once had, toned down the effects of Kira, calmed the mania, freed Misa, reduced the number of daily judgments, and slipped back into the semi-shadows -- what if he did all that and the results still weren't what he had wanted? He would have failed and he would have lost Elijah as well for there was no way to implement this new strategy and produce decent results by the end of the year. Would he end up giving up the Death Note anyway and not even have the reward of his best friend to stand beside him for the rest of his life?

"Dammit!" he hissed to himself, mildly disturbing the stillness of his room. He just didn't know. There were too many variables, too many outcomes that he couldn't accurately predict. If he was going to lose the Death Note anyway, then he wanted Elijah, but if he could make a difference in the world and reduce the instances of crime globally, whether temporarily or permanently, then he would sacrifice anything to obtain it. Why couldn't anyone tell him ahead of time whether his efforts would be worth it or not? Or was that selfish, too?

Tired and frustrated, Light sighed and turned his gaze back to the window and the gorgeous summer morning outside. Regardless of what his decision would eventually be, he needed to change what currently was. The world needed a break from Kira. He would stop, at least for a little while. Let the world think that the old Kira had died or been caught and that a new one had arisen when the judgments began again. He would use his influence as the new L to force the zealots into line, and if that didn't work, he could always fall back on threats. A smirk took over his face at the thought of sending a condemned criminal into the Sakura TV station to deliver a cease and desist message to the company president. He just might do that anyway after all the trouble that blasted station had caused him.

Whatever he ended up doing in the future, for now he would take a break. A month. Yes, that sounded like a good amount of time. His eyes strayed to the small calendar on the desk. It was currently mid-July. He would start again when classes resumed at the end of August. Between now and then, he would continue to think, plan, and evaluate. Perhaps he would even talk with Elijah some more about options. But the next time he opened the Death Note to write down a name, he would be prepared to do his work without distractions. No more games, no more power trips, and no more delusions of grandeur. He would put aside Kira and be Light instead, as he should have done from the beginning.

Smiling, Light leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. For the first time since the accident the previous night, he felt at peace. He hadn't made any decisions regarding his future yet, but he had at least a partial plan and for now that was enough. He'd take the rest of it one day at a time.

Below him on the first floor, the front door opened and closed again and a welcome voice cried up to him happily.

"Tadaima, oniisan!"

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: On the first day of Christmas, the author gave to me, a one-year anniversary ...

Yes, it's been a year, and I'm heartily ashamed of myself. To atone, I will be focusing entirely on this story until it is finished. No distractions, I promise. My eternal gratitude to all of you who have stuck with me this far. A Merry Christmas to all.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Elijah's head hurt. It _really_ hurt. The nurses at the hospital had made him swallow a few pills before leaving, but the medicine had only made his brain foggy. It had done nothing for the persistent pain that throbbed behind his eyes and clenched at the base of his skull. The car ride home had been pure torture, every tiny bump on the road translating into a firework of pain in his head. By the time they reached the house, he was cursing his infinite lifespan and plotting ways to drill holes into his own skull to relieve some of the pressure.

"Tadaima, oniisan," Sayu called as they entered the front hallway, thankfully keeping her voice at a reasonable level. The girl had complained of pain as well and the two had commiserated with each other on the way home, but Elijah firmly believed he was the worse off. He knew from experience that it was much easier to deal with pain in a limb than it was to deal with a screaming, throbbing head. At least if the pain was elsewhere, he could distract himself with an interesting puzzle or some simple research. With his head in agony, he had no choice but to endure it full-force.

Stifling groans with every step, Elijah shuffled into the living room as Sayu wandered off to search for her brother. It took him a while, but eventually he reached the couch and sank down into it, curling up sideways into a fetal position and pulling one of the pillows in front of his face. He smashed the soft cushion into his eyes in the hopes that it would provide at least some form of relief. The pain did not in fact lessen, but it sort of changed which, he decided, was enough of a blessing to be grateful.

"Can I get you anything?" Rich asked from somewhere above his head.

"Mmph," Elijah replied, unwilling to move the pillow.

His father chuckled a little and commented, "I'll take that as a 'no'. Well, let me know if you change your mind. Water, an icepack, anything."

"Mmph."

"You're welcome," Rich answered even though Elijah hadn't realized he had thanked him. "Just rest now. I'm going to go check on your mother."

This time, Elijah didn't bother to respond, choosing instead to shift the pressure of the pillow into a different spot on his face which changed the location of the pain again. Groggily, he wondered if there was a spot on his face that would take the pain completely away if pressed. He would have to experiment.

A rush of footsteps cascaded down the stairs, and out in the hall, Sayu cried, "Oniisan!" A deep-voiced murmur responded. Curled up on his couch, Elijah stiffened. He didn't particularly want to deal with Light right now. The last time the two had been together, the young man had been angry. _Extremely _angry. Elijah had no doubt that their next several encounters would be dangerous and explosive and could quite possibly lead yet again to blows if he did nothing to prevent it. Unfortunately, his mental capacities were severely hindered, both with the pain and with the drugs. He was in no condition to engage Light on any field of battle, mental or physical. If Light came in with Sayu, the girl might be enough to keep her brother in check, but if Light came in alone, well, he would simply have to avoid interaction of any kind. He would pretend to be asleep and ignore the other man outright. It was a cowardly method but one he would have to use until he could string more than two words together in his head at a time.

In the hallway, the voices that had been murmuring to each other fell silent, and a moment later, Elijah heard the soft, steady step of a single person entering the living room. Light had come by himself. In accordance with his previous decision, Elijah stilled his body and evened out his breathing as best he could, trying to create the illusion of unconsciousness. In spite of his act, the newcomer did not hesitate in walking straight to his side and kneeling down in front of him. Warm fingers curled around Elijah's hands, and a weight pressed against his left one as if something had leaned up against it.

"I'm sorry," Light's voice whispered to him.

Elijah stopped breathing. For many long moments, he could only lie there in stunned silence and question whether he had heard correctly. Light had apologized. Elijah couldn't believe it. He had heard those words from the other man's lips before, but never in this particular context. "Sorry" to Light had always been a casual word, thrown out to appease or to interject. Never before had it held such weight or such meaning. Light was admitting in two small words that he was wrong and that he regretted his actions. Elijah was beyond stunned. He was downright flabbergasted.

Carefully, he lowered the pillow from his eyes to peer over the top at his friend. Light sat back as he moved, taking his head away from its resting place against Elijah's left hand but keeping his hands where they were. Brown eyes watched him calmly, and Elijah could see from their expression that the younger man knew he was awake all along. He searched those eyes for understanding, looking for the reason for this completely unexpected but certainly welcome change.

After several minutes of staring at each other, Light smirked, reclaimed his hands for himself, and asked, "Aren't you going to say something in reply?"

"Should I?" Elijah asked back.

With a sigh and a mild roll of his eyes, Light commented, "Well, a normal person would, but you're not normal, so I suppose you can do whatever you want."

And with those words and the expression that accompanied them, Elijah knew that everything was fine. Light was back to being Light, not the vengeful monster of the previous night that thirsted for blood and death. Any issues that had needed to be addressed after the accident he had dealt with and resolved himself. The 'how' was not important and the 'to what end' could be ascertained at a later date. For now, Elijah could content himself with the knowledge that he didn't have to worry about any immediate battles with his friend. And considering the current state of his head, that was a truly blessed situation.

As if to emphasize that thought, his head chose that moment to send a powerful spike of pain shooting through his skull behind his left eye.

"My head hurts," he complained to Light.

His friend leaned his head a little to one side and asked, "Didn't they give you medicine for it at the hospital?"

"Yes, but all it did was make my brain fuzzy. I am still experiencing an unpleasant level of pain."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Light asked.

Elijah blinked at him for a moment, then answered, "Your brain is not fuzzy. Please think of a remedy to my situation."

"I'm not a doctor."

"Yes, but you studied human biology in school, did you not? Surely with your intelligence you can devise a way to lower my discomfort."

"Fine, my solution is for you to shut up and go to sleep. And don't say it won't work," he added when Elijah opened his mouth to argue, "because you haven't tried it. I'm the one in charge of your recovery, so you'll do what I say."

"Oh dear, I appear to have dug my own grave."

"Shut up. Sleep."

Choosing not to protest further, Elijah shut his eyes, taking the sight of Light's smile with him as he descended into darkness.

xXx

So this was what it felt like to be a parent, Light mused grumpily as he sat outside the women's dressing rooms of one of many identical clothes stores within the confines of the mall. The worry, the nerves, the frustration, the worry, the anxiety, the worry …

"I'm never having kids," he remarked to Elijah who sat beside him. His friend smiled lopsidedly at him but said nothing.

Papa Yagami had predictably blown a gasket at the news that his little girl had been in a car accident, but Sayu had calmed him down at once. She had also somehow managed to convince him to wire her the money for tickets to one of the many concerts she had wanted to see while in America. Something about compensation for her broken arm even though it certainly hadn't been their father's fault. The initial plan had been for Light to accompany her to the concert, but he, not caring the slightest bit about American music, had quickly passed his ticket off to Charlie. That had led them here, to the mall, where Sayu was trying on outfit after outfit, looking for the perfect thing to wear that also passed Light's rather strict modesty tests. The first few outfits she had modeled had nearly sent _him_ into an apoplectic fit to say nothing of what their father's reaction would have been. Thankfully, Charlie had caught on quickly and was now keeping Sayu confined to the dressing room if she thought the clothes would upset Light. Neither male had seen either female for at least ten minutes.

"I am surprised," Elijah commented after a long pause, "that she is able to change so quickly with one arm in a cast, even considering the fact that Charlie is helping her."

"What I'm surprised about," Light countered, turning his head to regard the other, "is that you came with us. You could have stayed home away from all this insanity. Why subject yourself to this?"

Elijah grinned at him. "Because I am acting as replacement mediator since Lily is out of town for a few days. It is my job to make sure that you and Charlie do not kill each other."

Light hummed a little and turned away again. "I think the days of us trying to kill each other are over," he commented. "She and I have reached a kind of understanding about each other. I don't like her and she doesn't like me, but we're both willing to put that aside for the sake of our mutual friends. And even though I can't stand her personality, I've come to recognize that I can trust her, especially with Sayu."

"Your sister does seem determined to lose her first kiss while on this trip. I admire her tenacity."

"Believe me, 'Lij, that is _not_ something you should admire."

While the blond beside him laughed, Light leaned back in his chair and glanced around. A few teenage girls stood browsing through the racks on the other side of the store, and a younger girl with her mother waited at the register for the cashier to finish their purchase. The area nearby to where they sat, however, was empty, giving them a fair amount of privacy. In addition, their chairs provided a clear view of the entire store and Sayu liked to announce when she was coming out, so they would have plenty of warning beforehand if they were to be interrupted. If either one wanted to talk about something more delicate or personal, they would be able to do so without significant risk.

Light shifted his weight slightly on his seat as the temptation gripped him. He had so many questions that he wanted to ask Elijah, and one in particular had been bothering him for some time now, long before his early-morning breakthrough the previous morning. Logically, he knew he should wait until they were both at home to ask, but he didn't feel like being patient at the moment. Besides, the other man had been the one to speak in Japanese to him in the middle of the ER waiting room. This would be nowhere as dangerous as that.

Deciding to go ahead with it, Light lowered his voice but kept it high enough to hear as he said, "Hey, Ryuzaki-san, can I ask you a question?"

Elijah started slightly at the unexpected name but regained his composure at once. His eyes quickly did the exact same scan that Light had just done and apparently came to the same conclusion. "What is it, Raito-kun?" he replied in a similarly quiet tone.

"I've been doing a fair amount of thinking since the accident. Postulating. Analyzing of how things are and wondering about how they could have been different."

"Yes?" Elijah encouraged.

"I was wondering," Light said calmly, not looking at the other man, "if L had found the notebook, would he have used it?"

"I truly doubt it," the answer came immediately.

"No?" he pressed. The reply didn't surprise him, but he doubted the other man had ever taken the time to really consider the question. "But it would be very useful in certain situations. In cases where he knew who the guilty party was but had no proof or in hostage situations. Do you really think he never would have used it? Even once?"

Elijah hummed and began to pick at his shoelaces, a nervous habit he had picked up as a replacement for biting his nails. "I think," he said after a moment, "that he would not have used it even in those situations. He might have been tempted because, in spite of what the world thinks, he was a man and not a machine, but I do not think he would have succumbed. In your first example, he would have considered it an admittance of failure to fall back on the notebook rather than pursue a case to the end. There is no such thing as a perfect crime; there is _always_ evidence. Even in the Kira case, there was evidence. The challenge is to find it. To give up before it is found is to admit defeat, and L was incapable of admitting defeat.

"As for the second …" He paused in the destruction of his laces and wrapped his hands around his knees instead. "That temptation would be harder to fight," he admitted. "To instantly end a hostage situation and free all the innocent lives involved, that would be very desirable, and yet I think that L would have chosen to let the situation play out without the interference of the notebook. In fact, I think he would have burned the notebook the same day that he found it. Man is not meant to have a power such as that, and I think he would have recognized that and destroyed it immediately."

"Are you certain?" Light countered, finally driven to interrupt Elijah's monologue at this last statement. "Are you sure you aren't projecting your own ideals onto him? The L I knew had absolutely no regard for other people's lives. More than once he was willing to wait until people died in order to get more evidence or to ensure that Kira did not get wind of his movements and run into hiding. While I can agree that he would be too proud to use the notebook for his cases, I can't see him destroying such a potentially useful tool."

"That is certainly a good point," the blond conceded to Light's satisfaction, "and you are right that L did not value life as much as I do. Even so, to deal with something supernatural like the book of a god of death, I think L would have refused. He was a firm believer in the power and value of man."

Light blinked at this and finally turned his head to regard his friend. "Really?" he asked, surprised. "Even after dealing day in and day out with the worst that mankind has to offer? He could still believe that we as a species have value even after all of that?"

Elijah met his eyes and smiled at him. "But of course," he replied. "Why else do you think he fought so hard to remove the evil influences from our society?"

Light responded at once. "The thrill of the chase and the joy of winning."

Thin shoulders shook with laughter at his confident and immediate statement. "Ah, I had forgotten how perceptive Raito-kun is," the older man chuckled. "Fine, I will concede that those were the primary driving factors, but there was also the desire to improve the condition of humanity in general."

"'To improve the condition of humanity in general'," the younger man echoed. With a meaningful stare into Elijah's eyes, he stated, "That is what Kira wants to accomplish as well."

"Yes, I know," his friend replied, "although I find it interesting that while Kira wants to improve humanity, he does not believe in humanity itself."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he does not believe in the power of the justice system."

Light snorted in contempt. "The justice system?" he sneered. "You mean that pathetic, corrupt establishment that lets anyone go free as long as they have enough money? That infestation of lawyers and expert witnesses who only care about making enough noise so that the jury gets distracted and loses sight of the truth? That justice system, Ryuzaki-san?"

Elijah did not answer right away. Instead, he rested his head on his knees and let his eyes slip out of focus. "There was a boy once," he began in a quiet, even tone, "who had no parents but who was quick and bright enough to catch the attention of certain adults. These adults told him that he would train to be a detective and set him to studying law and forensics. As the boy studied, he became increasingly disillusioned with the subject of law and raised many of the same objections to the justice system as you have, Raito-kun. He denounced the entire establishment as a failure and declared that he would no longer study such a worthless subject. But one adult in particular -- a kind, wise, older man -- took the boy aside and spoke to him. Do you know what he said?"

Light's jaw had dropped slightly as the older man spoke, and he stared at his friend, fascinated by this new and unexpected information. Never had he imagined that L had once thought the same way he had, that their opinions had ever been anything but polar opposites. "No," he replied to Elijah's question. "What did he say?"

"He said," the blond said, still in that half-dreamy tone, "that the system would never be perfect because it was made by man. That since man is full of mistakes, his system will be full of mistakes. However, he said, just because it cannot be perfect is no reason to discard it. The percentage of times it works properly is far greater than the percentage of times it works improperly, and this is enough reason to keep it in effect. As for the boy's part within the system, the man said that it would be his job to increase the positive percentage and decrease the negative and to do that, he would simply have to be smarter than the mistakes."

"Smarter … than the mistakes?"

"Yes." Elijah's eyes came back into focus and shifted their gaze to regard the younger man. "If lawyers distort evidence, present stronger, firmer evidence that cannot be changed. If they confuse witnesses, provide witnesses who cannot be confused. If there are holes in the case, fill them. If there are doubts, remove them. Never be content with 'just enough to convict'. Keep pushing and searching and working until there is no way that anyone anywhere can use the mistakes within the system against you. In other words, be the very best cop the world has ever seen."

Subdued, Light looked down at his hands in his lap. This was something he had never considered. For years, ever since he had first begun to doubt the effectiveness of the established law courts, he had looked for a way to replace them. The system wasn't perfect right now, so he wanted to discard it and rebuild it from the ground up. Not once had he bothered to think of how he could help save it, of how he could work to fix it from the inside if only he would put in a bit of effort.

Elijah's soft, kind voice spoke in his ear, "You want to be a cop someday, right, Raito-kun? Just like your father."

"Yes."

"I have no doubt that with Raito-kun's intelligence and dedication he could be a good cop. A very good cop indeed."

Light's mouth was dry; he was having difficulty swallowing. Elijah's arguments were tearing holes in his well-established walls, presenting him with glimpses of a world he had never imagined. In a way, he was almost angry. Why hadn't _he_ thought of that?

"A single policeman can't change the world, Ryuzaki-san," he rasped in protest.

"This is true," the other responded without hesitation, "but he can inspire and build foundations upon which others will follow. And even within his one lifetime, he can do much good. Like the child on the beach throwing stranded starfish back into the ocean. 'It makes a difference to this one.'"

Suddenly tired, Light pulled his right leg up onto the chair seat and rested his head against his knee. A wild mass of conflicting emotions swirled within him, confusing him terribly. When he had started this conversation, he had been searching for, essentially, a validation of his own actions. Some sort of acknowledgment that what he had done was not so strange and different, that another would have done the same thing in his place. Instead, what he had received was an entirely new world view, one that would have been extremely comforting to his younger self and that, even now, made far too much sense than he wanted to admit. It wasn't fair, he thought as he shut his eyes against the world. A person shouldn't have to go through so many changes in life perspective in such a short amount of time. One had been confusing enough; three was really pushing it.

The soft tread of footsteps directly beside him forced Light to open his eyes and raise his head. Charlie stood there, mere feet away, a couple of shirts in her hands and an odd expression on her face.

Light's heart dropped through the floor.

"Sayu wanted these in a different size," she said quietly, indicating the shirts. "I'm just … going to go … get them."

As she began to move away, Light snapped his head to the man next to him and saw the exact same expression of fear and horror that he knew was on his own face. At least a portion of their conversation had been overheard, and now Elijah was in danger. Instantly, the brunet was on his feet, his hand wrapped around the blonde girl's arm.

"Wait," he demanded in a half-whisper. "Charlie, what did you hear?"

Charlie straightened her shoulders cockily but did not look at him as she replied, "I heard you and Elijah having a very deep, philosophical conversation. Too complicated for white trash like me to understand." The sharpness of her posture faded as she finally met his gaze, serious blue staring down panicked brown. There were questions in her eyes, questions that wanted answers. "I don't understand," she stated meaningfully.

"Forget about it," Light ordered, hoping against hope that she wouldn't push the issue, that this didn't constitute as a rules violation. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

She scrutinized him for a good thirty seconds, then shifted her gaze and did the same to Elijah. Finally, she relaxed her stance a bit and said, "You both know that if you ever do anything to hurt Lily, I'll make you wish you'd never been born?"

"Yes," Elijah answered quietly from behind them. "Light and I are fully aware of that."

"Then I'll let it go," Charlie finished.

Light choked a little in spite of himself. He couldn't believe it had been that easy. "Really?" he asked in confirmation.

The blonde tipped her head at him and managed a small smile. "Well yeah," she answered casually. "Whatever secret you two are keeping, as long as it's not hurting anyone, I have no reason to interfere. After all, I've made promises to both of you, and I intend to keep them."

"Promises?"

"Yeah." She sent a grin in Elijah's direction and explained, "I promised 'Lij that I'd leave you and the task of changing your views on Kira to him. At least until I got to know you better. And as for you," she continued, shaking her arm out of his grip, "we still have a truce in place. Right?" The arm, now free, lifted and presented its hand for him to take. Light stared at it for a long moment, still not believing that he was hearing these calm, almost mature words from an established she-devil, before taking it in his own.

"Right," he replied.

Charlie grinned hugely. A moment later, Light found himself in a surprisingly strong headlock, having his hair mussed enthusiastically by a cackling blonde. He fought her off quickly but not before a significant amount of damage had been done.

"I've always wanted to do that!" she laughed as he scowled at her. "You are such a peacock!" Before Light could reply, she had turned and was walking away, throwing a quick, "I'll be back!" over her shoulder as she went.

Grumbling under his breath as his fingers attempted to fix his hair, Light turned with the intention of returning to his seat. When his gaze fell on Elijah, however, he stopped. The older man was grinning like a hyena and obviously trying to hold in sniggers. Light glared at him, daring him to make a comment. Naturally, Elijah rose to the offered challenge.

"I like the new look, Light. It suits you."

"Does it?" he growled.

"Yes. You look like me."

Light didn't respond. Instead, he calmly walked to his chair and sat down. "'Lij?" he asked.

"Yes, Light?"

"Is your head better now?"

"Yes."

"Good."

And in one smooth movement, he pushed Elijah out of the chair.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: My husband got me an L plushie for Christmas. He's sitting here watching me, waiting for me to finish writing so he can have some cake. :)

I caused some confusion with the last chapter, so rather than write the explanation a bunch of times, I'll write it here once for all of you. Light and Elijah were talking in English, not Japanese. Just because they call each other Raito-kun and Ryuzaki-san doesn't mean they're speaking in Japanese. When they do, I make a point to state it somewhere either before or within the first sentence of dialogue. In the last chapter, Elijah reacted to the name Ryuzaki, not the language in which it was spoken. Yeah, it's subtle and obviously not as clear as it had been to me (since I tend to understand my own subtleties.) I know I could use bold or italic to differentiate them, but I personally think it disrupts the presentation of the narrative. I'll try to make it clearer next time. My apologies to all for the misunderstanding.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

Sayu's departure from America was more heavily attended than her arrival had been, but Elijah surmised that that was to be expected. The girl had blasted her way into their summer, a typhoon of smiles and laughter, and hadn't let almost dying slow her down in the slightest. Instead, she had had a wonderful fun-filled two weeks, taking them all along for the ride, and was here at the end of it, doling out hugs and good-byes to all her new friends.

The blond watched with a smile as Charlie and Lily both tackled her at the same time, creating a girl group hug. Solemn promises of emails and phone calls hovered in the air above the three of them, and a round of fake tears began to cover up the real ones that threatened. The whole thing was very amusing to Elijah who couldn't help but watch Lily get caught up in the enthusiasm of the other two and behave far more demonstratively than normal.

It was his turn next, and Sayu nearly bowled him over with her running hug. "Good-bye, Elijah-niichan," she said. "Take care of my brother, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he told her, returning the hug by patting her on the shoulders. "Thank you for making me forever terrified of the color pink."

She laughed and tried to tickle him. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't ticklish. "You're welcome."

With a quick glance around for her brother, he leaned in and lowered his voice. "By the way," he asked, "did you ever succeed in your mission?"

A slow grin spread over Sayu's pretty face. "Not telling," she sing-songed as she turned away. He smirked at her retreating form. Even someone as socially inept as he was could have easily deduced the answer from that. She had.

After more good-byes to the McCormicks and a very long one to her brother, spoken in Japanese and consisting of lectures on both sides as well as the more traditional heartfelt farewell, Sayu disappeared through the doors that led to her airplane. The six Americans waited until it took off, Charlie waving at it through the glass and finally managing to convince Lily to wave a little too, and then walked away towards the parking lot and home. The atmosphere was subdued as they left, but not sad. Sayu would have been disappointed in them if it had been.

The next day, Light received a phone call from his father saying that Sayu was home and well. There was some question about the number of souvenirs she had brought home and the amount of money that had been spent on them, but Elijah paid no attention to that part of the conversation. That, thankfully, was none of his business.

That same morning, however, he opened the newspaper to find a lead article that was most certainly his business.

"Light?" he said to the young man who sat across from him at the breakfast table.

"Hm?" Light answered with part of a piece of toast in his mouth.

"Have you seen the paper yet?"

"No. Is there anything interesting?"

"Yes," Elijah stated. He placed the sheet he was reading down on the table and turned it so that the other could see. "It says here that the number of deaths attributed to Kira has dropped dramatically."

Light froze for the briefest second. Then, he was back to munching on his breakfast and glancing over his notes for his professor. "Is that so?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"It is so," the older man answered. His eyes watched the younger man's expression carefully. They could not discuss this fully in the kitchen, but Light could easily give him small signals and hints if he wanted to do so. Pointedly, he asked, "I wonder why that is."

"Who knows?" Light replied immediately, betraying nothing. He packed up his notes, swallowed the last of his juice, and rose from the table. "I'm off," he said to Elijah with a smile. "I'll see you this afternoon."

Elijah's eyes narrowed in disapproval, but he could do nothing as Light escaped from his presence and left the house altogether. Mildly irritated, he turned back to the article and read it again from beginning to end, looking for clues he doubted were there.

By the next day, he had managed to pull nothing from his friend, but another article proclaimed that there had been even fewer deaths to report. The following day, the main article was joined by one speculating on Kira's activities and plans. By the end of the week, the front page was covered with news of Kira. The deaths had trickled down to one or two a day, and soon it was postulated that they would stop altogether. As for Light, he had said nothing the entire time, skirting all of Elijah's questions with vague answers and slippery escapes, citing the need for extra time working on his internship because "Sayu distracted me while she was here and now I'm really behind."

Come Saturday morning, Elijah was ready to chain Light down until he got some answers. Since he had no chains, however, he settled for inviting himself into the younger man's room when he was still asleep, hopping onto the bed next to him, and settling himself over the brunet like a waiting vulture. The movement caused Light to stir and might have succeeded in waking him completely, but Elijah didn't want to wait that long. He reached out and poked his friend in the shoulder until the other man opened his eyes.

"What the … ?" Light began sleepily. "Elijah?"

"Light," Elijah answered tersely, still hanging over him like he was carrion. His finger withdrew, and he stared at him with renewed patience. He would wait until the other man woke up a bit more; then he would pounce.

Light's brows drew down in anger as the situation seemed to make itself known to him. "What are you doing in my room?" he snapped. "What time is it anyway?" He lifted his arms and pushed a bit at the skinny figure looming over him. "Get out!"

Elijah nodded sharply; that was awake enough. "The number of Kira deaths have dwindled down to nothing," he stated, ignoring the other's irritation. "Why? Have you given up the Death Note? If so, why have I not felt some kind of magical sensation giving me my second life in reward for accomplishing my mission? If not, then why are you no longer killing? What game is this, Light? I've waited long enough. I want answers."

Light sighed and dropped his arms, resting one over his eyes. "Can't this wait until later in the morning?"

"No. I want answers now."

Groaning, Light shifted, pushing himself up on his elbows. "Fine, you sadistic insomniac. What do you want to know?"

"Why have the killings stopped?" the blond asked.

"Because I've stopped writing names," the brunet answered. He smirked a little at the confused expression on Elijah's face, but it faded quickly. "I haven't written a name since the accident. All of the deaths since then are the ones that I put down in advance to provide me with an alibi should I be sent to the hospital or otherwise be unable to get to the Note. The last three will be tomorrow, and then they'll stop."

Intrigued, Elijah put a thumb to his lips and cocked his head. Light's sharp eyes watched that thumb, but Elijah had no intention of biting it. Nowadays, every time his teeth began to nibble on a nail, he would think of pink and immediately stop. That didn't mean he didn't still like the feeling of the digits on his mouth though.

"So you've given up the Note?" he asked, not expecting the answer to be affirmative.

"No," Light responded as guessed. "I'm just taking a break."

"Why?"

"That's my business," Light stated with a hardening expression, "and I don't feel like telling you just yet."

Elijah frowned but decided not to press the issue. He knew how grumpy Light could be in the morning. "How long is this break?" he asked instead.

"Just until classes start again."

"That's a rather significant amount of time. I wonder what the investigation team will think?"

Light rolled his eyes and flopped back down on the mattress, pulling the covers up over his head. "I couldn't care less," he grouched. "Now, if you're done with the questions, I'm going back to sleep."

Elijah sighed and wiggled his toes a bit. "But you haven't adequately answered the questions I did ask," he complained with a hint of a whine.

"I will."

"When?"

A single brown eye peeked out over the sheets and attempted to shoot innumerable holes in him with just its gaze. "_Later_," Light growled. "When it's not God-knows-when in the morning."

"4:43 AM," Elijah supplied helpfully.

The younger man released a low groan of suffering and buried himself under the sheets again. "I have half a mind to give up the Note and make you human just so I can kill you," he mumbled into the pillow. "Now go away."

Reluctantly, Elijah slid off of the bed and padded over to the door. Just inside the hallway, he paused and looked back. He had answers to some of his questions now, but not all. Perhaps he should have known better than to try to make Light reveal his secrets before dawn, but what was done was done and he wasn't about to apologize for it. With a shrug and a mild frown, Elijah left Light alone and returned to his own room.

The early morning sunlight was already peeking through his curtains when he arrived so he grabbed his swivel chair and wandered over to the window to sit and think. The metal springs creaked a little as he climbed up onto it and sat down in his usual crouch. With one arm around his legs and the other resting on his knees to support the hand against his face, Elijah gazed sightlessly out the window at the summer morning and let his mind wander.

Sayu was gone which meant that the reprieve that Light had requested in her presence was now over. Elijah was free once again to challenge Light about Kira whenever and however he wished. Unfortunately, things had changed so much that he wasn't even sure where to start anymore. He had a feeling that Light's plan to change the world for his sister's sake had already been discarded and replaced with something else before Elijah had even had the chance to try to understand it. Even worse, by extrapolating from Light's history of reasons and excuses, Elijah surmised that whatever the new plan was, it would be even more bizarre and incomprehensible.

To Elijah's mind, Light's thought processes were becoming more and more difficult to follow. In the past, the brunet's reasoning had been dryly logical with occasional flashes of panic, smugness, or childish pique. Now, his thoughts seemed to be all across the board and completely disjointed, driven neither by strict analysis nor by illogical yet predictable human emotion. As far as Elijah could tell, the only constant or grounding factor in this mess that had become Light's mind was the young man's stubborn refusal to give up the Death Note completely. The whole situation was maddeningly frustrating and left Elijah floundering, not knowing which direction to take next.

Sighing, Elijah pushed his lip back and forth as he watched the sun brighten the world outside. He didn't want to admit it, but his confidence in himself was wavering. There was a difference between not knowing the answers to his questions and not knowing what he would do with the answers once he got them. Solving a crime was so much easier than solving the troubles of a friend's heart. And yet, he realized with a small smile, he had no desire to return to that old life of cold logic where everything was black or white, win or lose, no room for the beautiful grays in between. As unsettling and confusing as his new life was, he much preferred it to the one he had left behind.

The irritation that had plagued him since visiting Light began to fade at last. Outside, newly-awoken birds began to sing and squabble with each other over breakfast; their cheerful voices provided a fine counterpoint for his mood which had lifted at the thought of his current life. What he had right now was worth fighting to keep, self-confidence or no. Let the mood swings and wild leaps in logic come; he would take them in stride and continue to move forward all the way to the last second of the last day. For himself, yes, but for Light as well. For both of them and for their futures, separately and together. He would fight to make that promised dream a reality and then live to share it with his ex-rival and best friend.

One bare foot slipped off the chair seat and hit the floor, and a moment later, the force it applied sent the chair into a spin. As the world whirled in a muted, dawn-colored blur around him, Elijah shut his eyes, tilted his head back against the chair, and smiled.

xXx

The call came exactly as he had expected, down to the hour. It was actually kind of pathetic how predictable his father and the rest of the team were.

"The deaths have stopped," the elder Yagami stated as if he were commenting on the weather. "There have been no reported attacks by Kira for five days now. None at all."

"What do you think, Raito-kun?" Matsuda's excited voice demanded. "Do you think Kira's just resting like last time, or do you think this time is for real?"

Light sighed and fixed the headset he wore so that it would be more comfortable. In front of him, his computer screen glowed in the dark, lit up with pages and pages of data with which he was already intimately familiar. "It's too early to tell, Matsuda-san," he replied, hearing his own voice echo slightly as the speaker on the other end sent it out to bounce against sterile walls. "It's possible that something has happened to the current owner or owners of any remaining Shinigami notebooks, but it is also possible that this is merely a pause as power is transferred. We'll have to wait a bit longer and see if the killings resume. Remember, the previous break lasted two weeks. We should wait at least that long if not an entire month before making any conclusions."

"Well, one thing that this tells us," Aizawa's gruff voice commented, "is that there is only one Kira remaining. If there were more than one, the other would continue if the first became incapacitated, possibly even taking up the slack and working double duty."

"Unless they're working together," Soichiro Yagami argued. "Like Ryuzaki suggested back at the beginning, there could be one lead Kira with a bunch of followers, either with their own notebooks or with pages from the original. That lead Kira could have decided to stop for whatever reason and ordered his subordinates to stop as well. I don't see how this gives us any more information than we already had which, I might add, is close to nothing!"

Light smiled in spite of himself at his father's obvious frustration. He could easily picture the older man's face as he spoke and the slight tinge of red it would acquire as his feelings grew. "Like I said," he interrupted soothingly, "there isn't much we can do or deduce right now. We need time and more data -- or in this case, lack of data. As much as I would like to announce that Kira is dead or has seen the light, it's just not possible this early."

Most of the team mumbled their agreements to this, but Matsuda piped up again, "What do _you_ think, Raito-kun? What's your gut reaction?"

Light paused a moment to smile and shake his head to himself, thankful that the rest of the team could not see him. They really were ridiculously predictable, Matsuda most of all. "Well," he replied, pausing again to give the impression that he was thinking rather than reciting a pre-planned speech, "my gut reaction is that the killings will start again eventually. Kira is too smart to not have planned for an illness or accident that would make him unable to pass judgments for a significant period of time. If that had been the case, the deaths may have slowed, but I don't think they would have stopped. Instead, I think that this is some sort of transference of power and that once the killings start up again, we'll see a different pattern than before."

The men on the other side of the world murmured to each other for a bit, generally expressing their agreement with Light's assessment. A brief flare of wicked excitement twisted in Light's stomach as he thought of how easy it would be to manipulate these men in any way he wished. However, it soon faded. After all, one of the ones he would be treating no better than sheep was his own father, and while he knew he was far more intelligent and resourceful than the other man, he did still love and admire him. The days where he would willingly sacrifice anyone, blood relative or no, were long over. He was no longer that much of a demon.

_I have Elijah to thank for that_, his mind thought even as his voice dutifully carried on his part of the wrap-up and good-byes. He had done a lot of thinking in the past few days, and he was now convinced that, had Elijah not appeared to teach him how to truly care for those other than himself, he would have continued down the road of madness and obsession without check. Within a few years, he most probably would have become a man who could use and manipulate anyone without remorse, even his own family. Who could plan out their deaths without a second thought and watch them die without the hint of a tear. Elijah and the rest of his friends here had saved him from becoming that much of a monstrosity.

His conversation with the team over, Light shut down his computer and pulled off the headset. He had one more phone call to make, but it would require his normal cell phone, not all the bells and whistles that he used when making business calls. Before he dialed the number, however, Light allowed himself a quiet moment of serene reflection. He was going back to the beginning, before it all became a deadly game. Before the cat and mouse, the percentage points, and the never-ending battle of wits. Before the charades, the plots, and the twisted betrayals. Before everything that made Kira Kira. He was going back, turning around on the path to Hell and returning to where he had started, to the place he never should have left in the first place. Going back to one man, one notebook, and a dream.

The phone flipped open, fingers dialed, and the connection rang.

"Raito!" the female on the other end cried, already halfway to squealing. "Is it really you? Tell me it really is!"

"Hello, Misa," Light said with a small smile. "How have you been?"

"Raito!" his girlfriend shrieked again. "Misa missed you _sooo much!_ Oh, I'm so, so happy that you're calling me! You're being faithful to your dear Misa, aren't you? I talked to Sayu the other day and she said you were, but she also said you had made some new friends and a couple of them were girls. You're not going to let yourself be seduced by some American tramp, are you? You have a perfect little wife in Misa! She loves you more than anyone ever could!"

Fighting the headache that threatened due to the high-pitched chattering in his ear, Light rested his head in one hand and let Misa run unchecked for while, only contributing now and then with one-word reassurances. No, he was not seeing other girls behind her back. Yes, he knew how much she loved him. Yes, he would listen to her tell him about her latest photo shoot. No, he couldn't believe that other model had said that. Yes, she had been justified in throwing a glass of water at the witch's face.

After a good fifteen minutes of non-stop yammering, Misa finally wound down enough for Light to interrupt her and return control of the conversation to his own hands.

"Misa, where are you right now?"

"At home. Why?"

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Good." Light straightened and regripped the phone, his tone turning serious. "I have something I need to talk to you about."

"Oh, okay," Misa replied, the hesitation evident in her voice. A second later, the chirp returned as she said, "Misa will do anything for her Raito!"

"I know." The slightest bit of guilt began to tumble in Light's stomach, and he grimaced at the feeling. He truly was going back to the beginning if he was starting to feel bad about all the ways he had used Misa to further his own agenda. At least after tonight he wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. "Misa," he began, "you've been a great help to me all this time, and I truly appreciate all you've done for me."

"Oh, Raito," she started to reply, "you don't have to --"

"Please don't interrupt," he stopped her, his voice gentle. "Please just listen until I'm done."

Subdued, she murmured, "Okay …"

Light took a quick breath and then resumed his speech. "Like I said, I appreciate everything you've done. I've put you in many dangerous and unpleasant situations, and yet you've stayed faithful to me throughout it all. You're a wonderful girl, Misa, and you deserve happiness. I've decided that it's time I started giving it to you."

"Raito," Misa whispered, "what are you … ?"

"Misa," he stated, strong but still kind, "I want you to give up ownership of the Note. I want you to be a normal girl again with a normal life. I'm grateful for all you've done as my partner, but now I want you to be just my girlfriend and nothing else."

For a long moment, Misa said nothing in reply. Then, she released a long, dramatic sigh, and Light could easily see the hearts dancing in her eyes. "Oh, Raito!" she cooed. "I'm so happy! You're finally ready to let me be an ordinary wife, your sweet little love who will always make sure you have a warm, happy home to return to. I'm so, _so_ happy!"

Light bit his lip and refrained from mentioning that he had said "girlfriend" and not "wife". "That's right," he smiled once he could trust himself again. "I'm counting on you, Misa, to make that home for me." He grimaced again; even that lie tasted sour on his tongue.

Misa sighed and cooed for a while longer, her talk of modeling and show business morphing into fluffy dreams of home-cooked meals and cheerfully-done housework. Again, Light let her ramble, although this time he couldn't stop the twinges of guilt that shot through him periodically. He hadn't quite figured out yet when and how he was going to break up with her, but he knew, even as she planned out their eventual wedding and babbled about tiny versions of themselves running about the house, that he was definitely going to do so sometime soon. He just honestly couldn't stand the girl.

It took a great deal longer for Misa to wind down the second time, but once she had, Light carefully reminded her of the time difference and that it was the middle of the night for him. She got the hint and wished him goodnight. That in itself took another ten minutes for she simply had to tell him how much she loved him multiple times and send an army of kisses fluttering through the international phone lines, but eventually, Light was able to end the call and place his phone on his desk. Tiredly, he rested his elbows on the surface and dropped his head into his hands.

It was done. He had dismissed his subordinate without finding another to replace her, and at this point, he doubted he would continue looking. By doing this, he had lost the Shinigami Eyes, but, while they certainly made some things easier, he had never really required them at any point. He would simply have to rely on his own cunning again should he need to discover someone's name, hardly cause for alarm. On the positive side, he now held all the power and information regarding Kira and bore all the responsibility for any changes in Kira's plans or reputation. Misa, while dutiful and loyal, had always carried with her a hint of risk; that risk was now gone. Everything was solely his once again.

Suddenly exhausted, Light pulled himself from his desk and collapsed onto his bed. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so drained, and yet a strange sort of contentment also lay there within him, quiet and still beneath the stronger emotions. It confused him, mainly because he had no idea where it came from. If it was still there in the morning, he decided, he would reflect on it more, but tonight he was just too tired to do anything other than sleep.

The last thought that crossed his mind before he fell into unconsciousness was that he would have to go to the store in the morning to buy apples. Lots of apples.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Ryuk appeared the next day in the middle of lunch. Light was right in the middle of a rather interesting conversation with Julie regarding Nietzsche, and in he floated straight through the wall, unblinking eyes already fixed on the young man seated at the table. He wore his usual sharp-toothed grin, which only widened upon seeing Elijah at the table with them.

"Hi!" he greeted, knowing that Light could do nothing to reply at the moment. Then, he proceeded to investigate the first floor of the house. Light watched him as best he could as the Shinigami stuck his head into every available cabinet and closet, occasionally commenting on what he found there. Once he had finished, he wandered over to Light's side and loomed over him in a familiar way while eyeing Elijah and grinning to himself.

Ignoring him for the moment, Light wound down his conversation with Julie and then excused himself from the table. "I'm going upstairs," he announced as he stood. He took a few steps away from the table, then turned as if remembering something. "Hey, 'Lij, would you come up with me for a minute? I have something I want to talk to you about."

His friend lifted his eyes from his plate, where he had been building a tower of raspberries, and stared at him in mild curiosity. Light watched carefully as Ryuk slowly moved to stand behind him. Not once did Elijah's eyes flicker to the Shinigami, prompting Light to conclude that the reincarnated man could not see him.

"Of course," Elijah replied to Light's request. He unfolded himself from the chair and followed the younger man out of the dining room. In silence, the two of them ascended the stairs and wandered down the hall to Light's room.

Once they had entered and shut the door behind themselves, Elijah asked, "What was it you wanted to discuss?"

Light didn't answer. Instead, he smirked, extracted an apple from the bag on his desk, and threw it at Ryuk. The Shinigami caught it with a loud "Oho!" and immediately crunched into it, his happiness evident on his ugly face. To Elijah's credit, only the slight widening of his eyes betrayed the immense surprise he felt at seeing an apple hover in midair and begin to consume itself.

"I see," the blond stated in a monotone.

Unable to help himself, Light laughed and replied, "No, you don't." He closed the distance between them with a few steps and, after reaching into his pocket to retrieve the piece of paper he had stored there that morning, touched Elijah's wrist gently. Smirking even more, he stated smugly, "_Now_ you do."

Elijah blinked. His face betrayed no emotion, but he stared pointedly at Ryuk for several seconds as Light watched him with interest. For his part, Ryuk had finished his apple and was now staring right back at Elijah, grinning as usual. Finally, the silence broke when the blond lifted a hand to his mouth, smiled slightly, and said, "It's nice to finally meet you, Shinigami Ryuk."

"Likewise," Ryuk answered.

"So you're the one who started this whole mess."

"Yup, that's me." The introductions seemed to bore him, for dull red eyes turned to Light questioningly. "Got any more apples?"

While Light sighed and dug another apple out of the bag, Elijah took a few steps forward and inspected the god with curiosity. "He looks like my Halloween costume from last year," he commented.

"I know," Light replied, tossing the second apple to Ryuk. "When I first saw it, I thought it was a trick to bait me."

"I assure you it was not," the older man replied. He had continued his inspection and was now behind the happily-eating Shinigami. "Annie picked out everything herself without my input. Even if I had been allowed to offer my opinion, I would not have been able to set up a trap for you. This is the first time I have seen this particular Shinigami."

"You didn't see him on Heaven's cameras?"

"No." Apparently finished looking at Ryuk, Elijah wandered over to Light's bed and settled himself on it. He continued to explain, "When I viewed your past events, the Shinigami did not appear, making it seem as if you were talking to yourself. I asked my monitor about it and received the answer that, while the high-ranking souls are able to see all beings everywhere, normal human souls are still bound by the same rules that applied to them in life. I could see Rem in playbacks because I had touched her Note, but I could not see Ryuk. However," he added with a smile, "my monitor revealed to me the closed captioning option on the cameras, so while I was not able to see or hear your Shinigami, I could read what he said to you. That made things much more understandable."

"So it was just luck on Annie's part then."

"Indeed." His bright eyes shifted to regard the dark god once more. "So, may I ask why Ryuk has decided to join us? I know he was with you for a short time early last year, but I believe I can safely assume that he has not been present for some time. Otherwise, we would have been unable to keep any apples in the house without them disappearing."

"He's been with Misa," Light answered him, leaning back against his desk to get more comfortable. "Surely you watched the part where she and I switched notebooks."

"Yes, I did," Elijah confirmed. "Many times, in fact, as it was part of your grand scheme that eventually led to my downfall. Yes, I watched it quite closely. My question still stands: Why is he here now?" Those blue eyes turned to him, and Light could see that Elijah suspected the correct answer even if he didn't want to guess at it.

Sighing, Light crossed his arms and stared at the floor. He didn't feel like playing games at the moment, so he answered freely. "I told Misa to give up ownership of her Death Note. That's why he's here." As an aside, he raised his head and said to Ryuk, "I take possession of her Note, by the way."

"Got it," the Shinigami grinned. Then, slyly, he added, "I don't suppose you wanna do the eye deal, eh, Light? Since you don't have the girl anymore?"

"Ryuk," Light half-sighed, half-growled, "I told you before that I never intend to do the deal with you or anyone else. Don't tell me that spending a year with Misa has turned your brain to mush."

"Uh, well," Ryuk returned, scratching his head sheepishly. "She did spend a lot of time talkin' about makeup and clothes."

"Why?"

The startled god turned to Elijah and said, "I think it's because of that modelin' thing she was always doin'."

"No," the blond corrected, fixing his gaze on Light. "Why did you tell her to give it up? And why are you taking a break now? What is going on, Light? I want my answers now."

Light's irritation flared at being bossed around, but he let it die quickly. He had brought Elijah to his room for just that purpose. As enjoyable as it might be to continue to withhold information indefinitely, Light knew he had no reason to do so anymore.

"Both of your questions have the same answer," he stated. "I am scaling back Kira's influence and rebuilding his image in the public eye."

Elijah cocked his head at him, obviously intrigued. "Explain," he requested.

"Kira as a public figure is getting out of hand. His supporters are rapidly morphing from simple approval to a mob mentality. Some are even trying to exploit Kira's existence for their own benefit. I admit that it's my fault since I did push for fame at the beginning and have done nothing to correct it so far. However, I'm not happy with the results, and I'm going to do something about it now. I plan to use this break to convince the world that the old Kira has died or otherwise fallen out of power. Then, I will start up judgments again on a much smaller level, punishing only those who have escaped justice or who are actively participating in criminal actions such as in hostage situations. Those who are already in jail, I will leave alone. I will also issue warnings to all forms of media that try to overhype Kira and punish them if they refuse to cooperate. My goal in doing this is to return Kira to the form that I wanted in the beginning: a figure of justice whose only purpose is to make the world a better place in which to live."

Elijah's thumb dug into his lower lip as he considered this. "And Misa?" he prompted.

"I never loved Misa," Light replied with a small shrug. "You know that as well as I. I've just been using her from the very beginning. I'm through using her or anyone else. From now on, my fight will be my own, and I won't treat others as tools to further my cause."

"I see." Elijah smiled around the digit that was halfway in his mouth. "I do seem to remember you telling me how wrong it is to use other people. What an interesting combination of Light and Kira you have become. I'm actually impressed." Grinning to himself, he turned to the tall figure next to him and asked, "And what do you think of all this, Shinigami Ryuk?"

The god shrugged lazily. "I dunno," he replied. "It doesn't sound like much fun to me."

"Hmph. That does seem to be the only thing you care about, isn't it? Your own entertainment."

"Well, yeah," Ryuk grinned at Elijah's frown. "Everythin's just so borin' otherwise."

"And you have no remorse whatsoever that your entertainment involves the taking of human lives."

"No," the god replied, tilting his head and gazing at the blond as if he were a strange and interesting bug. "Should I?"

"I suppose not," Elijah conceded with a sigh. "It would be foolish of me to expect it of you considering that humans are more or less your food. Although," he added with a renewed frown, "I am not in the habit of destroying cakes for fun."

"That would be messy," Ryuk agreed.

"Not to mention wasteful. But I suppose humans are in plentiful enough supply that that aspect of it does not concern you."

"Yeah, the women are always havin' more babies."

"Well then," Elijah said, peering up at Ryuk appraisingly, "I suppose the best course of action is to suggest another means of entertainment for you."

Ryuk stared at him. "You can try, I guess," he replied with a shrug, "but Light is pretty entertainin'. His fight with you was the best thin' I'd seen in a long time."

"What about it intrigued you so much? The danger of discovery? The secrets that you knew and I did not? The obstacles that Light faced and overcame?"

"Yeah. All of that."

"Then why don't you raid a bookstore, clear out the detective and spy sections, and take them back to your own realm with you? That should keep you entertained for a few years."

"Nah. Don't like readin'. Makes my head hurt."

Fascinated, Light watched for several minutes while Elijah tried to convince Ryuk to abandon the young brunet and find something else to do instead. It was amazing how many ideas he came up with and equally amazing how quickly Ryuk shot them all down. The main problem that kept being brought up was that Ryuk needed to be connected to a human in order to stay in the human realm and the means of connection was a Death Note. Elijah argued that this meant he should return to his own realm and do something fun there, but Ryuk stubbornly insisted that there was absolutely nothing fun in his realm at all. Light, he repeated more than once, was the most fun he had had in centuries.

As interesting as their argument was, eventually Light grew tired of it. He had brought Elijah to his room for two reasons and had only accomplished one as of yet. Deciding that action was the best way to bring the attention of the room back to himself, he stood up from his desk and opened the drawer. That morning, just as he had prepared to show Ryuk to Elijah with the slip of paper in his pocket, he had prepared for this by retrieving one of the Notes from its hiding place and storing it here. Now he removed it, letting his fingers run lightly over the black cover and the white lettering on its front. Almost reverently, he opened it to that familiar page where his rival's name lay scrawled upon the white surface, and underneath it a newer name in his own hand, written in a panic last year upon being forced to face his enemy yet again. This page alone told so many stories, tales of his successes and of his failures.

Light stared at the page for half a minute; then he reached into the drawer again and extracted the small plastic object that he had bought that morning along with the apples.

Elijah and Ryuk stopped their arguing as the small _click_ of the lighter burst through the room and the first tendrils of flame began to crawl up the Note's surface. Light calmly watched the fire rise, the little red tongues lazily licking up the black cover, curling the paper and turning it to ash.

"Light …" his best friend breathed.

"Whoa!" Ryuk cried, throwing up his hands in shock. "Light! What are you doing?"

Without expression, Light turned to them and let them see fully the burning notebook in his hand. "This one was Rem's," he told them in an even tone. "She doesn't need it anymore. And neither do I."

"You … you don't?" Ryuk asked, his eyes fixed to the flames. He appeared to be struck with horror at the sight of a Death Note being destroyed.

"No," Light answered. "The Death Note never runs out of pages no matter how many I use or tear out. From now on, I will be the only one using it. Therefore, I only need one. This one is unnecessary and just an added risk."

_Plus,_ he added to himself as he watched the flames climb higher, _I wanted to know what it would feel like to destroy one._ Surprisingly, he didn't really feel anything. He knew better than to expect to feel happy about it, but he also didn't feel any anxiety or regret at the knowledge that he had thrown away one of his tools. He felt … detached. Almost -- and wouldn't Ryuk laugh at this? -- bored.

Using his foot, Light pulled out his metal trashcan, emptied that morning in preparation, and dropped the mostly-burned book into it. Calmly, he sat in his desk chair, rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, and watched it burn the rest of the way. Elijah, he noted with gratitude, had gone to the window and opened it in an attempt to ventilate the room. While Light watched him, the blond removed the little desk fan from its perch, clipped it to the window instead, and turned it on. Blue eyes met his and sent him a smile. Light returned it and went back to watching Rem's notebook turn to ash. When it had finished, he looked up at Ryuk who was hovering over him with a sick expression on his inhuman face.

"And now she truly is gone," he said solemnly. "May she rest in peace, or whatever the Shinigami equivalent is."

"Dust to dust," Elijah commented. He stepped up to the trashcan and prodded it with a bare toe.

Smirking in spite of himself, Light lifted an eyebrow and commented, "That was in rather poor taste."

His friend offered him a private smile. "She killed me," he offered in defense, eyes twinkling. "I believe I should be allowed a bit of resentment for that."

Light started to reply but stopped when he heard the familiar rumbling of Ryuk's laughter. He shifted his gaze to the tall figure looming over him and offered up a look of question.

"You guys are still entertainin', even now," the Shinigami replied to the unspoken inquiry. He grinned. "This is gonna be fun!"

xXx

"Light," Elijah asked a little over a week later, "have you ever heard the expression 'Misery loves company'?"

Light stopped fixing his hair long enough to quickly glance at his friend's reflection in the mirror in front of him. "Yes," he answered, returning to the important task of his grooming. "What about it?"

The older man wiggled his bare toes a bit and internally lamented the fact that the other's deskchair did not swivel. To Light, he asked, "Is that perhaps the reason why you gave me the ability to see and hear Ryuk?"

Two pairs of eyes -- one blue, one brown -- swiveled to regard the dark, hunching figure in the corner.

"What?" Ryuk asked.

"No," Light said in response to Elijah's question, "but I can certainly see how you might think that." He returned to the mirror, the comb, and his beautification.

"What did I do?" the Shinigami demanded.

"You are constantly making some kind of noise," the blond told him, a slight edge in his voice betraying the irritation he felt in spite of his blank expression. "If it's not unnecessary chatter, it's inappropriate laughter or apple crunching. What with Rem who would never speak and you who won't stop, I'm beginning to suspect that it is not the Death Note itself but the Shinigami who comes with it that drives its owner insane."

"Who's insane?"

"Heh, heh, you are, apparently." Ryuk chuckled some more at the offended expression on Light's face, and Elijah had to physically stop himself from cringing at the sound. Changing the subject, the god commented, "This girl must be somethin' else if you're takin' this much time to get pretty before your date."

"It's not a date," the two men said in unison, then glanced at each other in surprise.

"No?" Ryuk insisted, his grin widening. "You sure? Two guys, two girls, amusement park. Sounds like a double date to me."

"Well, it isn't," Light insisted, then explained, "Charlie wants to take Elijah to an amusement park as something to cross off his list --"

"-- even though it wasn't on the list to begin with --" Elijah interjected lowly.

"She invited Lily because the two of them do everything together," Light continued, ignoring the interruption, "and Lily invited me because she didn't want me to feel left out. And, apparently, because someone needs to be around to go on roller coasters with Charlie which both Lily and 'Lij have refused to do. _That_ is why the four of us are going out today, Ryuk. Not because any of us are dating anyone else." He turned back to the mirror in a huff.

To Elijah's dismay, Ryuk began to chuckle again. "Is it just me," he asked, "or is Light protestin' this date thin' a little too much?"

"It's just you," the blond informed him. "You'll understand once you see Charlie in action."

"Okay. If you say so."

"'Lij, go get your shoes on. They'll be here soon. And at least run a comb through your hair, please. You look pathetic."

Elijah frowned at Light. "I always look like this. Are you saying I always look pathetic?"

"Yes," the answer came flying back at him. "Today, however, you are going out in public. With me. So go comb it."

"I do not see why I should. Nor do I see the point of all the time you have spent on your hair when the very first roller coaster you ride is going to negate everything you've done."

"That's my business, not yours, and _what_ --" Light snarled, turning on Ryuk, "-- are _you_ laughing at?"

"Nothin'," the god replied, grinning like he had just found a map to all the orchards in the world. "Just thinkin' that maybe the date is for the two of you. You fight like you're married."

The glares he received from both men just made him chuckle, and when Light threw a book at him only to have it pass through his body and hit the wall behind, he fell into full-blown laughter, phased through the wall, and disappeared.

Thankfully, before Light could fly into a rage or make any more comments about Elijah's appearance, the doorbell rang, signifying the arrival of the girls. Elijah quickly slipped out of the room in order to retrieve his shoes. By the time he got downstairs, the younger man's temper seemed to have cooled considerably. He only sent one meaningful glare at the blond's messy hair before suggesting they leave immediately. The girls agreed, and with a final farewell from Julie, they set off, Ryuk trailing along behind.

After enduring the nightmare known as American public transportation, they arrived at the park, bought their tickets, and spent the next hour going on various rides. Elijah had no real desire to try any of them, but Charlie pulled him along after herself and forced him onto one music-playing monstrosity of physics after another, demanding afterwards each time to know if he had enjoyed it. He was far too scared of her to answer in the negative. Lily hung back, only stepping forward when she could see that Elijah needed a small break before the next ride, and Light spent the entire time with an amused smirk on his face. His hair, the older man noticed, was still perfect in spite of the fact that he had ridden everything that Elijah had. As for the Shinigami, they had lost him sometime within the first fifteen minutes after passing by a funnel cake stand. Elijah assumed the god was now sampling as much food as he could steal without causing a riot and would return to them once he had tired of filling his belly.

"Charlie," Lily finally said after a string of nausea-inducing rides, "I think Elijah could use another break."

"Okay," the grinning blonde replied. She grabbed Elijah's wrist and led him to a bench. "Here, 'Lij, sit," she ordered, pushing him down. Then, turning to Light she asked, "You up for a coaster?"

He shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

"Okay, great. Lil, you stay here with Elijah. We'll be back in a bit." And then she was gone, taking Light with her.

Slowly, Lily sat down next to Elijah on the bench, but he was too busy recovering to notice. That last ride had been a bizarre twirling thing with teacups. He didn't think he'd ever be able to have tea or coffee again without feeling like his insides were twisting into knots. It was a quite distressing prospect to consider.

"Elijah," Lily's voice crept into his consciousness just as he was starting to consider the horror of a cake-shaped ride. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I believe so," he answered after a moment of consideration. "I no longer feel as if someone is trying to remove my internal organs through my mouth."

"That's … good," she commented with hesitation. Then, more confidently, she continued, "This time you can take a long break since it will be a while before Charlie gets back. The lines for the coasters are usually longer than for other rides."

"I see. Good." Tiredly, he rested his chin on one drawn-up knee and closed his eyes. If someone had asked him to be honest, he would have had to admit that he didn't want to be here. There were too many people, too much noise, and far too much movement even when he himself was sitting in one spot. It made him uncomfortable and a little bit sick. He never would have chosen to come to a place like this on his own, and he was definitely regretting allowing Charlie to convince him to come with her.

In time, however, the sun on the back of his neck didn't feel so bad, and he couldn't see the movement with his eyes closed, and he figured out how to mostly ignore the noise all around him. In time, he began to almost enjoy just sitting there, quiet and still, with Lily's presence at his side. It still wasn't as nice as being at home with a slice of cake and the newspaper, but it wasn't really all that bad. This moment -- here, now -- was almost nice.

Carefully, Elijah cracked one eye open and snuck a glance at his silent companion. Lily sat there with her hands folded in her lap, her eyes downcast and her expression peaceful. She seemed perfectly content to keep to herself and allow Elijah as much time as he needed to recuperate. Elijah let his gaze fall to her hands, those small fingers that held so much talent. Those little hands that could, with only a pencil and a piece of paper, capture a small bit of the world and preserve it for all time.

Dark eyes lifted to stare at him in surprise and pink lips parted in a gasp as Elijah reached across and took Lily's hand in his own. Gently, he brought it closer and lifted it for inspection. His gaze traveled over her skin, down the thin digits, along the lines in her palm, over and across the back and the knuckles. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, just looking. And when he was done looking, he interlaced his own fingers with hers and spent a few moments looking at that and seeing how it felt.

By the time he was done and had gently replaced Lily's hand in her lap, she had a healthy covering of red over her dark cheeks and couldn't seem to bring herself to look at him. The sight made him smile for some reason, but it also caused something inside his chest to twist a little. This sweet girl had done so much to make his summer memorable, and he had come to care for her a great deal. He didn't want to hurt her, but he also didn't want to lead her on, as the saying went.

With this in mind, he lifted his head and spoke her name. "Lily."

She made a sort of squeaking noise in reply, apparently unable to communicate with words at the moment.

"Lily," he tried again, "may I ask you a question?" When she nodded, still refusing eye-contact, he continued, "I believe that the socially acceptable way to do this is to be more indirect, but as my friends know, I am not exactly in tune with current social graces and I have a tendency to be blunt, so hopefully you will forgive me. My question is this: Are you attracted to me and holding out the hope that I will eventually ask you to be my girlfriend?"

Lily winced and blushed even harder. However, to her credit, she straightened her shoulders and turned just enough to meet Elijah's steady gaze. "Yes," she whispered. "Is that foolish of me?"

"Perhaps," he answered, causing her to wince again. "While I will not rule it out for a later date, I am currently uninterested in a love affair. Also, I am certain that as a boyfriend, I would not come close to measuring up to any girl's expectations. I would not take you on dates or act romantically with you. Short of some extra physical contact, our relationship would be hardly different from what it is now."

Lily's gaze had returned to the hands in her lap, but her blush had receded and when she spoke, her voice was strong if soft. "I am not a normal girl," she told him. "I don't need a boyfriend to dote on me, to take me places and buy me things. All I want is for someone to love me in the way that is most natural to him. If that means we stay as we are, that's fine." She paused a moment to swallow and take a breath. Continuing, she confessed, "I like you, Elijah. You're smart and kind. I like being with you. I feel comfortable with you. If you don't like me back, that's okay. I'll be okay. Just … just …" Her voice died away, and she bit her lip.

Since his reincarnation, Elijah had experienced many and various kinds of new emotions, all with a host of accompanying questions and anxieties. However, this time when his chest ached with something strange and new, he didn't bother analyzing it. He was far too focused on Lily and the sad expression on her face. She wanted so little; he had had no idea. If only his continuing life were assured, he would ask her to be his girlfriend in a second. But there was still a chance that he was only offering her the opportunity to be the girlfriend of the young man who dropped dead at midnight on the first of April.

His hand sought hers again, and this time it was not to inspect but to comfort. "Lily," he said. "I do like you. Of all the females I have met, I like you best. Even so, I do not believe that what I feel for you is romantic in nature. Knowing that, I cannot offer to be your boyfriend as that would be taking advantage of your feelings. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Lily's eyes were wet, but she did not cry. For a brief second, the hand that Elijah held tightened around his; then it relaxed again.

"Are you all right?"

"No," she answered. "But I will be." Her eyes lifted to meet his, and he could see within them that she told the truth. "Thank you, Elijah. For your honesty."

"You're welcome," he replied. And then, perhaps in apology, perhaps in chivalry -- he wasn't really sure -- he lifted the hand he held to his lips and kissed the back softly.

Lily smiled. Elijah gazed at her for a long moment, simply enjoying the sight. But then, movement behind her caught his eye. Once he saw what had distracted him, his lips curled up in a grin.

"Do you like stuffed bears?" he asked her out of the blue.

"What?" she replied, surprised. "Um, yes. I guess."

"Then allow me to win one for you."

Still holding her hand, he rose from the bench and wandered over to a booth where a couple of young boys were hurling baseballs at stacks of cups. Stuffed animals hung from the ceiling in large bunches, tempting would-be winners to spend their money in an attempt to own them. Elijah patiently waited for the boys to give up and stalk off empty-handed before shuffling over and placing a few bills on the counter in front of the attendant.

"Thank you, sir," the man rattled off on automatic. "Three balls, three tries. Knock over two stacks for a small prize, three for a big one. Throw whenever you're ready. Good luck, sir."

Elijah hefted one of the baseballs in his hand and weighed it for a moment, eyeing the stacks of cups and calculating their weight as well. He did some quick trigonometry in his head, then some physics, and then, with one thumb lodged between his lips, drew back his arm and hurled the ball at the targets. The first stack toppled like a house of cards. Lily clapped for him, delighted. On the second shot, he missed, but the third shot brought another stack down, winning him a small white bear with shining black eyes. Lily accepted it happily and gave him a quick hug as a thank you.

As they separated, the sound of someone else clapping reached Elijah's ears. He turned to find Charlie grinning at him, Light by her side with that little knowing smirk on his face.

"Awesome, 'Lij!" Charlie cried. "Good job. But move over and let a pro have a try." She elbowed him to the side, slapped down her own money, and eagerly grabbed the balls the attendant gave her. All three stacks fell in rapid succession, and soon she was holding a giant panda and grinning from ear to ear.

"Ah, Light," Elijah commented once they were wandering away to the next series of rides, "such a shame that you cannot win prizes for your date the way I can. I would venture to guess that she is better than you at these types of games anyway and more likely to win on her own."

"Who's on a date?" Light cried at the same time that Charlie demanded, "What date?"

"Like I'd try to win anything for _her_. Waste of my money."

"I don't need some guy to win me anything anyway."

"Like any guy would bother."

"Shut up, peacock. You want me to break that pretty little nose?"

As the argument continued to escalate, Lily stepped up to Elijah's side and murmured in his ear, "That wasn't very nice of you."

"Trust me," he replied with a sly smile, "he deserves it." Then, before she could say anything else, he slipped his hand into her free one, pulled her into step with him, and led her away.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Sorry this chapter took awhile, but it's important. Really important. I don't want to estimate how many chapters are left yet, but I'm thinking fewer than ten. BTW, my SJ copies of the manga spell the guy's name Gelus, so that's how I spelled it. Please don't tell me I spelled it wrong.

Enjoy! (And go Steelers!)

* * *

**Chapter 19**

"Elijah?"

"Yes?"

"Didn't you say you would help me?"

"Yes."

Light looked up from his place on the floor where he knelt next to a partially filled suitcase. From the other side of the room, perched on the bed in his usual crouch, Elijah blinked at him.

"Why then," Light demanded, annoyed, "are you sitting there doing nothing?"

"I am not doing nothing," his friend corrected calmly. "I am cheering you on." He lifted one fist and loosely twirled it as if shaking an imaginary flag. "Go, Light," he said in a monotone. "Do your best."

Rolling his eyes, Light turned back to the suitcase and resumed his packing. He wasn't going to waste the energy needed to argue, not when he needed it elsewhere.

Summer was almost over. Classes were scheduled to resume in a little over a week, and the dorms would be opening for returning students the day after tomorrow. In spite of Julie's repeated offers to allow him to continue living in their house, Light intended to occupy the room he had acquired for himself at the end of the previous year and was therefore getting ready to move again. Unfortunately for him, his idea of help seemed to differ from that of his best friend.

Light sighed gently to himself as his hands continued to fold shirts. So much had happened in the last few months; so much had changed. At first, he had been under constant attack from all sides. Kira this and Kira that. A never-ending assault designed to break down his resolve and crush him. The combined forces of Elijah, Charlie, and Lily had indeed bent him, but he had not broken. Instead, he had adapted and come back stronger with his eyes opened but his resolve unwavering. Then, the accident had occurred, almost as if God had waived his stance of non-interference and joined the argument against Light. That had shaken him horribly, but again Light had adapted and persevered. In a way, Light was almost grateful for the things that happened since they had led him to where he was now. He was undoubtedly stronger than he had been at the beginning of the summer, both mentally and emotionally, and he had reduced his risks as well. All in all, there was no doubting that his position had improved.

However, for some reason, ever since the accident, Elijah had been engaging him fewer and fewer times. In fact, Light could not remember a single mention of Kira from his friend since Ryuk had arrived. It was certainly strange. Elijah wasn't the type to give up or to be scared away by the presence of the Shinigami. Perhaps the incident with Charlie had made him more cautious, but that didn't explain the continued silence when they were alone without fear of interruption.

_Like right now_, he thought to himself as he shut a drawer and opened another. _Right now is a perfect opportunity for him to challenge me. Why isn't he? _In truth, he didn't exactly want to start fighting with Elijah over Kira again, but the possibility that his friend had given up on living disturbed him. The older man had far too much to live for to simply throw in the towel and stop fighting. Even Light recognized that much, and he had no qualms about attacking the subject in front of Ryuk.

"'Lij?"

"Yes?"

"If you're not going to do any actual work, at least make yourself useful by entertaining me."

From his spot on the bed, Elijah sent him a crooked grin and asked, "How would you like me to accomplish that?"

"Convince me not to start killing criminals again next week."

Not surprisingly, the request took the blond aback slightly although he recovered quickly. "But I have been trying to do that ever since April with little success," he complained.

Over in the corner, Ryuk startled out of his blank daze and shuffled forward a few steps. "Huh?" he said. "Wha … ?"

"I know," Light replied, ignoring the god entirely, "but you haven't tried lately. Why is that?"

"Ah, that is because I am taking a break just like you are, although my break is for observational purposes." When the younger man sent him a look of question, he elaborated, "You have shifted your position many times recently, and I have not always been able to keep up. Rather than try to engage you on less than ideal footing, I am stepping back and observing you for a while to reground myself."

Light nodded to himself and returned to his packing. That made sense. His uneasiness lessened.

"Is that the information you wanted, or would you actually like me to begin another debate?"

Turning slightly to answer Elijah's question, Light shrugged one shoulder and said, "It's up to you. I was mostly concerned as to why the debates had stopped, but if you'd like to start a discussion, I wouldn't mind. I'm rather curious as to what arguments you plan to present this time."

"Wait a minute. What are you two talkin' about?"

"Unfortunately, I have no arguments at present," Elijah lamented, "due to the fact that I am not certain which course of action to take." His thumb lifted to his lip, and his eyes rose to the ceiling as he contemplated. "I don't suppose," he ventured after a pause, "that you'd be willing to let me know which of my previous arguments had the most effect on you so that I can use it as a foundation for further discussion?"

Pausing for the moment in his work, Light sat back on his heels and stared at the wall in front of him. That was certainly an interesting question. From Kira's perspective, answering it would be incredibly stupid. Why give the enemy ammunition? But from the perspective of Light Yagami, the prospect of more intelligent interaction was appealing. In addition, he felt completely confident in himself at the moment and doubted that any minor edge he granted his opponent would do much to sway him.

Slowly, he admitted, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said that afternoon in the clothing store. About using my position as a police detective to help bring justice to others in a way that does not involve the Death Note and Kira." He hung his head and shook it a little, eyes staring sightlessly at his hands in his lap. "I don't see how the two can compare. As a detective, I can only help a fraction of the people I can help as Kira. Kira is global while a small-scale detective like my father is far more limited. Even if I worked at full capacity for the rest of my life, I doubt I would be able to bring justice to even half as many criminals as I did in the first year of being Kira and they would all be in one small corner of the world. Everywhere else would be as sick and rotten as ever."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right," Elijah replied, "but that's only if you limit yourself to following in your father's footsteps. You are far more intelligent than your father, and you have …" He paused for emphasis. "… connections."

Not immediately understanding, Light turned on his knees and met his friend's gaze. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"You are currently L, are you not?" the other answered. "That means you already have more power and resources and a broader sphere of influence than a normal police detective."

"That's true," Light conceded, "but I'm only L because no one wants to admit that you're dead. If I give up Kira, there'll be no more reason to hide that fact from the world and I'll lose my position. Even if I wanted to keep it, I'd still be severely hindered. Most of your connections died with you and Watari. I'd have very limited options when trying to start another case."

"But if you gave up Kira," Elijah argued with a small smile, "I wouldn't be dead anymore, would I?"

Light paused and considered this. If he stopped being Kira, he would no longer be able to wipe out large numbers of criminals in a short amount of time, but he would very likely, especially with Elijah's silent support, be able to be officially installed as the new L. That was a prospect worth considering, if only for argument's sake. Up until now, he had been forced to work on a case he had no intention of solving, but if he had the freedom to choose different cases, he could use his position as L to fight crime in ways he had never before supposed he could. Except …

"Didn't you say you already have successors?"

"Yes, two of them in fact." The blond tipped his head to the side and tapped his mouth with a finger. "Wouldn't that be interesting?" he mused to himself. "The three best detectives in the world could actually be three different people. I had never considered that possibility before."

Light snorted at him. "That's because you're disgustingly arrogant."

"A trait we share," the reply came without pause.

"Still," he insisted, getting them back on track, "I doubt they'll just step aside and let me take over your position."

"That would be very unlike them," Elijah agreed. "They have quite a fierce rivalry with each other. Adding you into the equation could be … interesting." Light rolled his eyes and made to comment, but Elijah cut him off by saying, "I am not sure what restrictions will be imposed on me should I succeed in my mission and become human again, but I'm sure that I will be able to find a way to help you acquire, if not the exact position of L, an equivalent one."

For a long moment, Light weighed the advantages and disadvantages of these two situations. Ultimately, however, he shook his head and turned away. "It still doesn't compare," he stated, returning to his packing. "You were L for years, and yet injustice still ran rampant throughout the world. Kira is more effective."

"You have been Kira for years," Elijah countered quietly, "and yet injustice still exists. How is that different?"

"It's different," the younger man bristled, "because I have lessened injustice considerably. Far more than L did or could do."

"I'm not so sure that, with the three of you working together, you couldn't do just as much, if not more."

Light ignored the older man's quiet comment and instead began throwing his socks into a side pocket of his suitcase. He had no desire to listen to the other man's temptations anymore. That's all they were anyway: temptations, siren songs. He had Kira now; he was making a difference with Kira now. There was no question of what if or maybe. Once he fixed his reputation and his strategy, there would be no reason to think of other possibilities. He would have everything he needed already.

Except Elijah.

_Dammit!_ Light slammed his suitcase shut and snapped the buckles fiercely. He was _not _going to let himself be tempted! This was a test, and he wasn't going to fail it.

A shadow fell across his suitcase just as a deep voice interrupted his mental tirade. "Hey. Light."

He looked up into dead crimson eyes. "What is it, Ryuk?"

The Shinigami stared at him with his normal impassive expression, but for some reason, Light could make out the slightest bit of cold anger in the god's face. "What's this about giving up Kira?" Ryuk asked.

Before Light could answer, Elijah had begun the explanation for him. "I am attempting to convince Light to give up the Death Note and become a law-abiding member of society again," the blond said, grinning slightly. "If I succeed, I will get a second life in my current incarnation. If I fail, I have to go back to being dead."

"Are you actually considerin' it, Light?" Ryuk demanded.

"No," the young man answered immediately. "I'm not." He pulled an empty box closer to himself and began to fill it with books and papers from his desk.

"Good," the god of death said off-handedly, "'cause if you had done it, I would've killed you."

Light froze. Very slowly, he turned his head and stared at the grinning creature that hovered over him. "Excuse me?" he whispered.

"I said I'd kill you," Ryuk stated lowly. Those empty eyes dug into him mercilessly, as if examining his soul and gauging how it would taste. For the first time, he truly looked like a Shinigami to Light, and for the first time since seeing the ugly figure appear in his bedroom, the young genius felt afraid. "I told you, didn't I?" Ryuk continued. "In exchange for allowin' you to use the Note, I get your life. If you don't want to use the Note anymore, that's fine with me, but that means I get to take my payment whenever I want." His grin stretched wider, showing off all his glinting, pointed teeth. Light's skin crawled.

"But Ryuk," Elijah's soft voice interrupted, breaking the spell of horror and fear that had fallen over the younger man, "that Death Note isn't yours."

"What?" Ryuk asked, turning his attention to the blond on the bed.

"You stole that Note from another Shinigami," Elijah informed him evenly. "It doesn't belong to you. Shouldn't that mean that Light's life belongs to the real owner of the Note?"

"The contract was with me!" Ryuk snapped, irritated. Light swallowed as he realized that he had never seen Ryuk angry before; it wasn't pleasant. "I'm the one you see when you touch the Note," the god continued. "I'm the one bound to the owner of the Note. His life is mine!"

"I see," Elijah sighed, not at all affected by the Shinigami's fury. "So, the way things stand now, no matter what Light decides in regards to Kira and the Death Note, the end result will be the same: one of us will die."

"That's correct," Ryuk answered, his normal grin returning to his face.

"That is extremely unfortunate."

The god didn't answer, only chuckled darkly. Light felt like his chest was being crushed by a massive weight. How could he have forgotten something so important? And now that he had been reminded of it, it made all further discussion with Elijah completely worthless. Perhaps he was allowing himself to be tempted by the combination of the power of L and the continued existence of Elijah, but there was no way he was going to save Elijah's life at the cost of his own. It wasn't even a question of choice anymore. Kira would live on. In fact, his destiny and Kira's destiny were now irrevocably linked. They would live on together or they would both die together.

"How many apples do you want for him?"

Light's head shot up at Elijah's question. His best friend was gazing calmly at Ryuk, the expression on his face clearly stating that he had not given up. But Ryuk was shaking his head before Light could even begin to raise his hopes.

"Apples are good, but they don't compare to lives. You want to save him? You've gotta give me a life for a life."

"I see." The blond considered for a moment, then inquired, "How about Miss Amane?"

"Wait a minute!" Both Elijah and Ryuk looked at Light in shock at the brunet's outburst. "You can't just trade away Misa's life for mine!" he protested.

"Why ever not?" Elijah asked seriously. "You dislike her, correct? Besides, she has already lived beyond her normal allotted time. Every second she lives now is a gift beyond what she was supposed to receive. And she recognizes that. She said as much when I was interrogating her. That she was supposed to die anyway so Rem should just kill her."

"That's not --" Light began.

"And speaking of Rem," Elijah continued, turning to Ryuk again, "I do not know how much extra life she had stored up before she died, but it has all been given to Misa. Plus, she was given whatever life Gelus had stored. Half of that she gave to Rem, so it was returned to her, and then half of the remaining part she gave to you. Thus, you have a quarter of Gelus's life, and she has the remaining three quarters and all of Rem's. By taking Misa's life, you will have acquired the stored-up life of two other Shinigami. While I cannot be certain, I imagine that is more than what Light could give you."

"Huh. You have a point."

"Stop it!" Again, two pairs of eyes fixed on him in surprise. This time, he intended to keep them there. He understood what Elijah was trying to do, and maybe in the past he would have agreed -- no, definitely, although that wasn't the point -- but right now the thought of killing Misa so that both of them could live disturbed him beyond words. Yes, he didn't like her, but as Elijah himself had said months ago, that wasn't a reason to kill someone. For some reason, hearing those words from the blond's lips had absolutely infuriated him.

"I am not going to let you two use Misa as a bargaining chip for my life," he near-shouted to the two shocked faces before him. "I told her to give up her ownership so I could free her from all this. I'm not going to just turn around and use her as a way to save my own skin after doing that. I told you, 'Lij, I'm changing back to the way it was at the beginning. Just me. My decisions, my actions, and my responsibilities."

"But Light --"

"No," he cut his friend off, glaring hotly at the other with stern eyes. "I said it and I meant it. No more using others. No more innocents being caught in the crossfire."

"But Misa isn't an innocent. She's a mass murderess."

"Not anymore she's not. Now she's an ordinary girl, and I'm not about to offer her up to Ryuk as some sort of sacrifice. And another thing," he continued before Ryuk could make some undoubtedly inappropriate comment, "I don't remember ever agreeing to give up the Death Note in the first place. In fact, I said I _wasn't_ going to give it up, multiple times. Your entire conversation is completely pointless."

His friend's large blue eyes blinked at him a few times in disappointment. "There's no harm in being prepared," he argued with the barest hint of a whine.

Light shook his head at him. Another forgotten fact had suddenly struck him, and it only served to bury the blond's chances further. "It's still pointless," he announced. "Did you forget, 'Lij? There's still one Death Note locked in the investigation headquarters. Even if you manage to convince me to give up being Kira, we'd still have to find a way to get it back. I can give up my ownership of it at any time, but I have a feeling that's not what your keepers want. They want the Notes, all of the Notes, destroyed, don't they?"

In response, Elijah sucked his lower lip into his mouth and lowered his eyes. "I'm not sure," he murmured after a few moments of thoughtful chewing. "My instructions were, unfortunately, quite vague in regards to that detail. However, it does seem the most likely interpretation."

"Then the subject is closed," Light stated with finality. He turned his back on the other two and began working once more. As an aside, he added, "I don't mind if you want to continue your arguments, 'Lij, since I like engaging in mental debates with you, but there is no reason to barter with other people's lives the way you were doing so please stop it at once."

In truth, acquiring that final Death Note would not be as difficult as he had implied it would. His father possessed the key that would open the box in which it was currently stored, and Light was certain that, while back in Japan for his winter break, he could easily convince the man to open it long enough for him to make a switch with a fake notebook. However, the fact remained that Light had no intention of giving up the notebooks at all. Therefore, he should not have to suffer through listening to the two immortals in his room arguing over something that would never come to pass. With this final thought forefront in his mind, he picked up a particularly large book and slammed it into the box.

Behind him, Ryuk commented quietly to Elijah, "Heh, Light is pissed again."

"Indeed," the blond commented back, oblivious to the tension in the brunet's shoulders that had just increased tenfold. "He does seem to have anger issues. I doubt it's good for his blood pressure." While the Shinigami chuckled at that, he added to himself, "I'm surprised that he is so concerned with Miss Amane. He really has allowed a significant amount of his underlying personality to reemerge. Fascinating."

"Hey," Ryuk interrupted, poking him in the arm with one bony finger. "How did you know? About me snitchin' the extra Note?"

About to turn and shout at them again, Light paused and bit his tongue. That was actually a fair question, and he found himself interested in knowing the answer.

"Ah," Elijah was answering, his tone light and amused, "that took a little extra research on my part. You see, after watching all the footage of your early interactions with Light, I became curious as to your origins. So I followed your movements for about a year previous to your arrival."

"Howzat?" Ryuk cried, clearly shocked. "There aren't no cameras in the Shinigami realm."

"Actually there are," the other confided secretively, "although only those with extremely high-level clearance have permission to access them. I, however, have never been one to restrict myself to the things for which I have permission."

All of Light's annoyance evaporated instantly as he began to laugh. How _typical_ of the ex-detective. "You hacked them," he accused, glancing over his shoulder at his best friend. "You _hacked_ Heaven's security system."

Elijah grinned at him, one finger pressed against his lips in a gesture of innocence. "Well … yes," he confessed.

"'Lij, I don't _believe_ you!"

"It was quite simple, actually. I had expected more of a challenge."

Light shook his head in amused disbelief. "Do they know?" he asked.

"To my knowledge," Elijah answered, "no. Although," he amended with a discreet look towards the ceiling, "if my monitor is watching at the current moment, they do now."

As if on cue, Light's cell phone, securely stored in his pocket, rang out loudly, making him jump. Elijah cocked his head in curiosity as Light retrieved it.

"I didn't realize my monitor had your number, Light," he joked.

The younger man threw a mild glare at him. "It's Misa," he announced. "She's been calling me constantly since I freed her although up until now, she's only called late at night when I'd already turned off my phone. Guess she finally figured out the time difference." He shrugged and moved to put it back.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" his friend asked.

"No," Light replied. His good mood had dampened again at the reminder of his persistent parasite. "I have nothing to say to her," he explained tiredly. "I've already broken up with her. If she can't accept it, then it's her problem."

The phone in his pocket fell silent, only to start ringing again almost immediately. Scowling, Light went back to packing and ignored it as best he could.

"It seems to me," Elijah stated once the ringing started up for a third time, "that it is your problem as well."

Not bothering to give him an answer, Light sighed and closed the box he had just finished filling. A moment later, his phone quieted, then began ringing yet again. Disgusted, he shut the thing off entirely and tossed it onto his desk. Why wouldn't the stupid girl leave him alone? He had actually broken up with her twice. The first time he had been kind; the second time he had been cruel. And still she hounded and harassed him, begging him to take her back, pleading for the reasons why he didn't want her only to ignore him when he gave them.

From his bed, Elijah's quiet voice inquired, "Are you sure you won't reconsider offering up her life in exchange for yours?"

Suddenly exhausted, Light stood, stretched, and moved to his door, planning to head downstairs in search for something to drink. Just before he exited the room, he turned to the other man and replied, "Let me get back to you on that."

* * *


	20. Chapter 20

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Well, I was quite nastily sick for a while, but I'm mostly over it now. Unfortunately, I gave it to my honey, so now I get to play nurse for a few days while he goes through it. Poor dear.

Enjoy the chapter. The next one is already half written and should be up soon (I hope).

* * *

**Chapter 20**

Hidden away safely on one corner of the couch, Elijah watched the proceedings and mused upon the subject of material possessions. In his previous life, he had certainly had quite a number of them, ranging from electronics to vehicles to real estate, and yet he had never been particularly attached to any of them. Certainly not attached enough to consider moving them from one location to another with his bare hands. No, he would be more inclined to dump them and repurchase anything he needed. Upon introspection, he would have to conclude that he had not changed much in that regard in his second life. He owned a few things -- clothes, books, a couple of electronics -- but he didn't feel particularly attached to any of them. In fact, he had lived the first five months of his new life with nothing but the clothes on his person, and he had done just fine.

Yet material possessions were certainly important to the majority of mankind. People fought over them, hoarded them, coveted them, stole them, and protected them on a daily basis. What Elijah couldn't understand was why. They were just things, things to reduce boredom or to increase efficiency. Light didn't _need_ all of those books or that fancy computer, not when the school had a perfectly adequate library and plenty of available public terminals. He didn't _need_ all those various changes of clothes; one or two outfits for each season would have sufficed. And he sure as hell didn't need fifteen different pairs of shoes. Truly, Elijah had begun to doubt his best friend's gender upon discovering that interesting little fact.

"Yo, 'Lij!" Mark called from the entrance to the living room. "Are you actually going to help any time soon?" The young man shifted the box in his arms to, presumably, make it easier to carry.

Elijah fixed his friend with one of his best blank stares. "No," he stated.

"Aw, come on, man! You live here. You should help."

"No," the blond repeated dully. Tucking himself even more tightly into his ball, he continued, "I entertained him for the entire summer. That releases me of any obligations I may have had to assist him in moving."

"Give it up, dear," Annie said as she passed by Mark, carrying one of Light's smaller suitcases over her shoulder. "You'll never win, and you're partly blocking the way."

"No, I'm not," Mark replied to his girlfriend, but he snuck a bit further into the room and out of the hall anyway. To Elijah, he appealed, "At least come hold the door for me or something."

"Lily is holding the front door," the older man answered immediately, "and my mother is in charge of the door upstairs. Is there a third door between Light's room and Rich's car of which I am not aware?"

A disappointed expression settled over the dark-haired young man's face, but before Mark could comment further, Charlie appeared in the doorway, carrying a much larger suitcase than the one Annie had moved. "She said give it up," the blonde snapped, lifting one foot and pushing Mark towards the front door with it. "Now move your ass!" she ordered.

Elijah watched in amusement as Mark, unable to resist the force being applied to his hind end by Charlie's foot, disappeared from sight. The girl threw him a quick glance and a nod before disappearing as well. A moment later, Annie returned, going in the opposite direction, and gave him a smile and a wave as she went by.

As people continued to pass back and forth in front of his line of sight, Elijah made himself more comfortable and returned to his thoughts. In regards to his mission, he had definitely made progress this summer although it certainly hadn't all been in a straight line forward. No, if he tried to express the movements visually, it would involve quite a number of curves and loops, spinning and skirting around that straight line in the middle and yet still seeming to follow it in its own way. The resulting graph might only be best presented in three dimensions, perhaps more. Extremely fitting, he thought, for a mind as complicated as Light's.

Sometimes, such as now, Elijah wished the younger man's mind wasn't quite so complicated. It made it rather challenging to pick apart and analyze. In particular, he was trying to ascertain how much involvement he personally would need to have in order to coax Light those final few steps before gravity would pull them both to the ultimate goal. The problem with the third Note didn't worry him in the least; he had an easy solution, one with a time limit but no other complications. And, in spite of Light's objections, he felt he had already dealt with the problem presented by Ryuk. So that left him with only the main problem: convincing Light once and for all that what he was doing was not worth the benefits he would receive if he stopped.

Interestingly enough, Elijah was beginning to wonder if he would need to actively participate in this struggle at all anymore. As far as he could tell, it was extremely likely that Light's plans and views would self-destruct on their own. The young man seemed to be uncomfortable with how some parts of the world had come to view Kira and was trying to use this hiatus to change that. Elijah didn't have to wait a few weeks or months to know how this experiment would end. It wouldn't matter if Light went back to his old ways. The fanaticism would continue. That's why they were called fanatics; logic didn't mean anything to them. To intelligent, idealistic Light, it made sense that changing the cause would change the effect, but Elijah knew better. The ex-detective knew more about the psychology of anonymity and about mob mentality than the sheltered college student possibly could, no matter how much he had studied.

So, Elijah mused to himself, that part of Light's plan was destined for failure. The question remaining was whether the older man would have to step in and apply pressure before Light could concoct another excuse or whether the few wheels that he had already set in motion would be enough. Clearly, Light had been tempted by the thought of being officially instated as the new L, possibly -- and this pained the reincarnated soul a little to admit -- even more so than the thought of Elijah's continued existence. He doubted that would be enough, but if enough other things fell into place neatly, it could easily be the catalyst that brings about the end. And many things lately had been inordinately neat. The timing and outcome of that car crash for instance.

A little smirk crept into Elijah's lips. "How many souls did you bet on me again?" he whispered to the ceiling.

"What did you say, sweetheart?"

Startled, Elijah half-turned to his mother who had, unbeknownst to him, just entered the room with a tray of drinks and snacks. "Nothing important," he answered her quickly. Then, to change the subject, he motioned to her burden and asked, "Are they done then?"

"Soon," she replied, laying the tray down on the coffee table. "They're having some trouble fitting the last few boxes in. I said they should just take two trips, but no one listens to me." Straightening up, Julie sighed and lifted her gaze to the ceiling as if looking through the floor to the rooms above. "I can't bear the thought of turning that room back into a second study," she admitted to him. With a small shrug, she added, "Guess it'll be a guest room, not that we really need one."

"Is this the point where I ask for a little sister for Christmas?" Elijah asked, smiling at her through his bangs.

His mother laughed and crossed the distance between them so she could ruffle his hair. "Would you like a little sister?" she teased.

"And have to share you and Dad?" he teased back. "I respectfully decline."

Chuckling, Julie leaned down to plant a kiss on Elijah's cheek. He, in turn, lifted his chin so she could have better access and smiled warmly at her as she backed away. "Let me know if anyone wants anything else to eat or drink," she ordered as she turned to go back to the kitchen.

"I will," he told her just before she disappeared.

Only a few minutes later, Ryuk fell, feet first, through the ceiling. The Shinigami looked utterly bored and barely gave Elijah a glance before retreating to a corner to sulk. Elijah surmised from the god's expression that watching others tote things from one place to another was about as high on Ryuk's list of entertaining things as it was on Elijah's. He also surmised that the others would be joining them soon. Sure enough, within moments, Light, Mark, Annie, Charlie, and Lily all filed into the living room in various states of exhaustion. The first four immediately collapsed into the available seats while Lily took it upon herself to distribute drinks as she was the least tired. She offered one to Elijah as well, but he politely declined.

Just as the rehydrated movers began to gain enough energy to complain about how they were feeling, Light's cell phone rang. It was a clear indicator of his physical state that he did not even bother to check the ID before answering.

"Hello?" he half-moaned into the receiver. Immediately, a shriek rang out on the other end of the line, causing Light to yank the phone away from his ear and everyone else to look at him in surprise. When the brunet's face instantly descended into an angry glower and he began to speak once more, this time in Japanese, the Americans' combined surprise grew even further. Elijah was not surprised, though; he had recognized that shriek. So, apparently, had Ryuk, who began to chuckle happily to himself.

"Why are you calling me?" Light demanded. "I told you, we're over. … No, I'm not going to change my mind. … No, I -- … Look, I _told_ you … I … I …" Apparently unable to get a word in for himself, Light gave up and just listened, his fury quite visibly obvious on his face.

"Who the hell … ?" Mark began once Light had fallen silent. Behind him, Ryuk was positively chortling.

"It's his ex-girlfriend," Elijah supplied blandly. As all human eyes turned to him, he continued, "She's been calling him constantly ever since he broke up with her."

"Ohhh," Mark replied with a knowing nod. "One of those, huh? Sucks."

"Indeed."

"Why doesn't he hang up on her?" Lily asked from her seat next to Elijah. Considering the way Charlie had sprawled all over the couch and only moved her feet when _Lily_ needed a place to sit, Elijah knew the arrangement was not an accident.

"It doesn't do any good," he answered her question. "She just calls right back. And keeps calling until he turns off his phone." He lifted his thumb and pressed it against his lip in an attempt to suppress a smile. "Then, she leaves a dozen or so messages on his voice mail before giving up for a while."

"Good grief," Charlie commented. "Girls like that give the rest of us a bad name."

"No kidding," Annie agreed. "And there's only one good way to get rid of them."

"Hah. Even _that_ doesn't always work."

"It's worth a try, though." The smaller blonde sat up from her tired slouch and looked expectantly at the two females on the couch. "So," she asked, "which of you is going to do the honors?"

At the question, Lily recoiled a little and Charlie scowled. "Why don't you do it?" the latter demanded.

"I have Mark."

"And I have principles," Charlie shot back. "I don't see why anyone has to do it. Let the guy suffer for all I care."

"Um …" Elijah began, but Mark cut him off.

"Don't, man," the brunet warned. "It's girl talk. We wouldn't get it even if they explained it to us. Just don't even try to go there. It's safer that way."

Elijah blinked at him for a moment before commenting, "That's a rather narrow-minded and sexist view of the world."

"Maybe," Mark answered with a shrug, "but it's the best way to stay out of unnecessary fights. Just keep your head down, do as you're told, and try not to do anything too stupid. Best way to keep a girl once you've got her."

"Sound advice," Ryuk agreed, even though no one but Elijah could hear him.

Shaking his head at the pair of them, Elijah returned his attention to the women to find that Lily had joined Annie's quest in trying to convince Charlie to take on this unnamed task.

"Light is our friend," the quiet girl was saying, a pleading look in her expression. "He needs our help."

"He's your friend maybe," Charlie growled, arms crossed protectively over her chest, "but I just tolerate him. I'm not doing this."

"Please?" Lily asked, and when that seemed to accomplish nothing, she added, "I'll give you back-rubs for a week."

To Elijah's surprise, this peaked the blonde athlete's interest. Her eyes, previously staring straight ahead, slipped to the side to peer at her friend appraisingly. "Two weeks," she counter-offered.

"But only once a day," Lily finalized. "Any more and my hands will fall off."

"Done," Charlie bit with a nod, and she immediately rose and stalked over to Light who was still trying to get Misa to shut up long enough to listen to him. So engrossed in this difficult task was he that he didn't even look up when Charlie loomed over him.

"Hey," she said, the short sound ringing out like a gunshot and finally claiming his attention. "Does she speak English?"

"Na -- uh -- what?" Light stammered, caught between two languages and startled to boot.

"Your girl," Charlie clarified, still looking angry enough to start a fight. "Does she speak English?"

"Uh, enough. Why -- hey!"

Turning on her heel with Light's stolen phone, Charlie ignored him and lifted the receiver to her own ear. "Hey, girlfriend, you understand me?" she demanded. After a pause in which she presumably got her answer, she continued, "Okay, look, I understand that you're having a hard time dealing with the fact that Light dumped you, but you've got to get over it. You're not going to get him back because you've already been replaced." Looking over her shoulder at Light with a hard expression in her eyes, Charlie stated clearly, "He's going out with me now."

"What?!?" all three males in the room cried at the same time. Luckily, Misa's screech was louder so she didn't hear them. Over in his corner, Ryuk actually fell over, giggling uncontrollably.

"That's right," Charlie continued, turning away from Light again. "He didn't want to tell you because he didn't want to hurt you, but I'm sick of you bothering him. You've lost him, girl, so stop moping over it and go out and find someone else. It's not like men are an endangered species. Have yourself a good cry, then fix up your face and go get yourself another one. But leave mine alone. Got it? Good. Sayonara, girlfriend." She snapped the phone shut and threw it onto Light's lap, the brunet still too stunned to even try to catch it.

"Problem dealt with," Charlie announced. Then, she turned on her heel and demanded of no one in particular, "Where did Rich get to? I want to finish up this physical labor so I can have my first back rub."

"I think he's in the kitchen with Julie," Lily offered, rising to her feet. "Want me to check?"

"Yeah. Let's both go, and we can take Julie all her dishes." Charlie grabbed the tray from the table while Lily collected empty glasses from around the room, and a moment later, both girls had disappeared.

Elijah's face felt like it was going to split, and yet he couldn't stop grinning. What a wonderfully amusing solution. Oh, it wouldn't work -- this was Misa Amane after all -- but nevertheless, _very _amusing. Poor Light had frozen into a statue of disbelief and horror although Elijah wasn't sure whether it was from the implied relationship between him and Charlie or from wondering how Misa would react to this monumental news. Perhaps, judging from the continued absence of movement or change in expression, it was both.

Carefully, Elijah unfolded himself from the couch and wandered off towards the kitchen. Maybe he would help with the moving, at least a little bit. After all, he truly doubted that Light would be any further help to anyone for the rest of the day.

xXx

Freshly moved into his new dorm room, Light sat at his desk with his head in his hands and listened to the sound of Ryuk crunching apples in the corner. He still couldn't believe that Charlie had done that. She hated him, probably as much as he hated her. Well, to be fair, he didn't really hate her anymore. It was more a strong dislike. But still, to receive help from someone like her, it was unthinkable. He would have been completely mortified if not for the fact that it seemed to have worked. Misa hadn't called him or written him an email since.

Lifting his head just a little, Light cracked an eye open to peek at his computer and check that the latter part of that statement was still true. It was. He had a few unread messages from members of the investigation team, but they were probably only reports and they all knew he was moving today, so they could just wait until tomorrow for him to get to them. Now, it was late, he was tired, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

One last thing to do before that.

Holding the Death Note again after so long an absence should have had more impact on him, he thought as he retrieved it and placed it on the desk. It should have felt like coming home or something clichéd like that. Instead, he felt the slightest bit of anxiety as he opened the book to a clean page and searched for a pen. He tried to cover it with a helping of his usual confidence, but it felt so fake and forced that he abandoned the attempt quickly. Better to simply be himself this time around, feel what he was feeling without fighting it. As long as he stayed calm and level-headed that is. No allowing his emotions to control his actions this time.

Breathing slowly through his nose, Light gently placed the tip of the pen to the paper and moved his eyes to the page of notes that sat beside the book. Calmly, he wrote the first name, then the second, then the third. Less than a minute later, he placed the pen down and sat back in his chair to examine his work.

Seven names. That was all he had managed to find during Kira's leave of absence. Only seven. Because he wasn't killing those already in jail anymore. And he wasn't killing those who hadn't had a trial yet or those who had committed anything less than murder, attempted murder, or rape. Perhaps later he might expand that range to include high-level drug dealers and aggravated assault, but for now, he was limiting himself to the worst of the worst and only those who had clearly not received the punishment they deserved due to a mishandling of their trials. Those restrictions he had placed upon himself meant that he had to do immense amounts of research for every name, essentially recreating their trials with Light this time as the judge and jury. Thus, seven. Only seven.

Light sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had wanted more. He had wanted enough to send a clear message to the world that Kira had returned and to force the media to sit up and take notice. Starved as they were for any information on Kira, all of the reporters and investigators and analysts would jump on the new deaths like wild animals and tear them to pieces. The similarities between these victims would easily be discovered, and soon everyone would know that Kira had changed his strategy and watch closely for his further moves. That had been the plan, and yet with only seven, Light was unsure whether it would work the way he wanted. Hence the small bit of anxiety that still had yet to go away.

Feeling tired and in need of entertainment, Light put aside the Death Note for now and turned to his computer. A few clicks brought up one of the many Kira websites that he occasionally visited. The internet was rife with these kinds of sites, although most of them were either little more than forums or blatant Kira-worshipping shrines. During his time chained to L, Light had been forced to investigate almost all of them, and while most of the time he would have preferred blowing his own brains out, the activity had led him to a few rare gems like this one.

It had as much information as had been publicly released, well-documented and properly organized. It had the traditional praising of Kira's actions although phrased far more intelligently than the usual "Kira is God" slavering. And of course it had a forum, but rather unlike most sites where 90 percent or more of its users were gibbering idiots, this site was only about 70 percent complete morons, 25 percent ordinary fools who at least knew how to form proper sentences, and an extremely rare and valuable 5 percent of actually worthwhile people who could think and use reason and logic to back up their arguments.

For the next hour or so, Light idly browsed the various threads. Nearly all of the most recent ones dealt with Kira's absence, speculating on what had caused it and when he would return. Reading them provided a much needed distraction, and Light allowed himself a small smile of something resembling fond indulgence as he paged through comment after comment, theory after theory.

Eventually, however, one name began to stand out from all the others. The name of a user whose arguments were particularly intelligent and well-organized. He or she had posted multiple times in nearly every thread, deconstructing any post that had been poorly thought out with sharp, almost clinical precision. Light also noticed that when any of the multitude of morons attacked this particular user with flames or idiotic babbling, he or she completely ignored them as if stating that they were not worth the time and effort of acknowledging.

Intrigued, Light rested his head on one hand and stared at the username: two words, capitalized and separated by an underscore, clearly the user's real name.

"Mikami Teru," the genius whispered to himself. "What sort of a person are you, I wonder?"

xXx

Elijah didn't want to admit it, but dinner had been a little lonely without Light. It was a most unpleasant feeling, missing someone. And it made no sense to him. Light had simply moved back to campus. He would be back, for dinners and to visit. It wasn't as if he had gone home to Japan or disappeared forever. And yet, the aching emptiness in Elijah's chest persisted.

That didn't make sense either. How could emptiness ache?

Julie had noticed him picking at his food and assured him that the sadness wouldn't last long, that she was feeling it, too. He had smiled at her and thanked her for her words, but they hadn't really helped much. What comfort was knowing that pain would pass eventually or even soon? He wanted it gone now, preferably by bringing Light back and locking him up so he couldn't leave again.

Of course, that would piss Light off and make him insufferable, so perhaps it wasn't such a good idea after all.

Alone in the darkness of his room with only the soft glow of his computer screen providing any light, Elijah sat in his chair and gazed out the window at the midnight world. For the first time in many months, he couldn't sleep. However, unlike every time before now, it was not his brain that kept him awake; it was his heart. It hurt, it worried, and it simply would not shut up. So, he stayed awake long after both of his parents had gone to bed.

Sighing, Elijah pushed away from the window and rolled over to his desk. If he was stuck being awake, he might as well make good use of his time. He had been meaning to do something for a while now but had never had a decent opportunity to do so before. Now, with Light out of the house and his parents safely asleep, he deemed it safe enough to go ahead.

Long fingers began to type at the keyboard, and before long, a string of log-ins began to pop up in front of him. He had done this once before, when he had accessed the Kira Investigation database before Light had arrived. That time, he had not only looked but also had taken information from the database, and no one in Heaven had objected. This time, he only meant to look, so he doubted he would get in trouble. Even so, a little thrum of fear rippled through him as he passed the final security check and found himself given full access to the records he wanted.

Wammy House. The place of his childhood. There, in that place, he had been nurtured and encouraged to grow even as he had been sculpted and molded into the greatest detective the world had ever seen. There, he had formed his deep bond with Watari, with Mr. Wammy himself, even as all other bonds had been gently but firmly thinned out and broken. There, in Wammy House, the strange little boy known as Lawliet had transformed into the eccentric genius known to the world only as L.

Yet, he had not returned here for nostalgia or regret. His role at this orphanage and in the world at large was over. Instead, he had come for the ones he had left behind.

In a matter of minutes, Elijah found Roger's personal records and hacked his way into them with very little effort. Quickly, he scanned over the notes about his own death, looking instead for the information on what had happened after. What he found verified his predictions and confirmed his fears. Since he had never formally chosen either of the boys to succeed him, Roger had suggested they work together. Near had agreed, but Mello had refused; that much he had foreseen. What he had not actually expected but had nevertheless feared was the older boy's next move. Mello had left Wammy's. Roger had no information on him whatsoever. The boy had simply disappeared.

A powerful desire to search for the young genius swept over Elijah, but the elder knew that that desire would go unfulfilled. Sadly, he began to close windows and erase his tracks. If Wammy's wasn't going to search for Mello, then there was no reason for him to do so. Even if he managed to find the boy with his limited resources, what could he do? He couldn't contact him, couldn't speak to him, couldn't intervene if he was in trouble. The same went for Near; all Elijah could do was watch him. As insubstantial and ineffective as a ghost.

The screen before him blinked off as the computer shut down, and Elijah carefully made his way through the new darkness to his bed. His heart still ached and worried, but a new depression had entered it, making him tired. He fell onto his bed, still clothed, and pulled the covers up around his ears. Moments later, he had slipped into sleep, his dreams troubled by faceless, crying children whom he could not touch, comfort, or save.

* * *


	21. Chapter 21

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: ... snicker ... Boy, I had fun writing this. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 21**

"That's all for today. I'll see you all again next week."

At the professor's words, Light began to put away his notes and prepare to leave the seminar. Next to him, Ethan did the same. A few minutes later, the two were exiting the building and heading for the central part of campus together, Ryuk floating along behind them.

Light was in an extremely good mood. An entire week had passed, and he had not received a single phone call or email from Misa. It seemed that Charlie's unsolicited interference had actually done the trick. He never would have guessed that something so simple could get rid of his blonde parasite. Misa had always acted too devoted and too stubborn to be put off by the appearance of another girlfriend. In a way, Light almost felt a little disappointed in her for giving up so easily. But he wasn't about to complain, not when he had had an entire week of blissful silence.

While the destruction of his relationship with Misa had gladdened Light tremendously, he had been equally excited by the construction of another, much different friendship. Mikami Teru, while clearly not on his and Elijah's intelligence level, was still an interesting and fulfilling acquaintance, similar to Ethan in mental capacity but far more rigid in regards to logic and truth. On the night that he had found the other man, Light had created a dummy email account, using one of the many free providers here in America, and joined the forum with the intent of commenting on Mikami's posts exclusively. Mikami had been quite surprised to see his arguments deconstructed with as much forethought and dedication as he himself used, but he had responded to all of Light's arguments beautifully and had even correctly deduced that Light was a Japanese speaker currently residing in an English speaking country.

Last night, Mikami had suggested that they exchange emails so that they could continue their conversations off of the forum. This morning, Light had expressed his agreement by sending an email to Mikami's account, an address that the other man had not yet offered nor had made public. Light had hacked the forum for it, an action that had taken a total of thirty seconds to accomplish.

All in all, it had been a wonderful few days, and Light was feeling quite content as he walked beside Ethan, chatting and laughing with the other brunet. In fact, the only thing keeping him from complete satisfaction was Ryuk. The Shinigami had fallen into his old habit of following Light around, staying a few paces behind him like a shadow and saying little except when it was extremely inconvenient. It didn't bother Light when he was alone, but when he was with his friends, something about the situation made him uneasy. For instance, at this current moment, the edges of Ryuk's dark wings kept fading in and out of his peripheral vision as he looked at Ethan. It gave Light the impression that his friend was unwittingly beneath the shadow of a malevolent specter that was simply biding its time before striking. Such thoughts were completely foolish, and yet Light could not completely shake them away. Nor could he quell the anxiety that rose in him at the knowledge that Ryuk had never elicited such feelings from him before.

The two young men had made it to the library and were about to step inside when Light's phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket, expecting Elijah or maybe Mark or Annie, but instead found himself staring at a number that he had stored in his contacts a long time ago but which he had not expected to use or see for the entire time he was in America. Confused, Light stopped just outside the door, opened his phone, and lifted it to his ear.

"Mogi-san?" he asked.

"Hello, Raito-kun," the deep, calm voice of the large man answered in their native language. "I'm very sorry to have to be calling you like this."

"Mogi-san," Light replied, also in Japanese, "what happened? Is everyone all right? Did something happen to my father?" Next to him, Ethan watched with mild concern at the expression on his friend's face and the words he could not understand.

"No, nothing happened," Mogi quickly assured him. "Everyone's fine. That's … that's not why I'm calling."

"Then why are you calling me?"

The big detective didn't answer right away. Instead, he slowly asked, "Raito-kun, where are you right now?"

"What do you mean?" Light asked back, beginning to get angry. "I'm in America. At my college."

"Yes," Mogi said, still drawing out every word, "but where exactly? You see, we're currently at the admissions office …"

Realization crept up Light's spine like ice. "Admissions office?" he asked. "You mean you're _here_? 'We'? Who's 'we'?"

"Well, you see …"

But before Mogi could convince himself to properly explain, Light heard another voice in the background, the voice of a person rapidly approaching the older man. A voice that wanted to know who he was talking to and was it Light. A voice that demanded the phone so that she could talk to him instead.

"Oh no," Light whispered, covering his eyes with his free hand. "No, no, no, no …" He felt like he was going to throw up, and he must have looked the part as well for Ethan suddenly grabbed him by the arm.

"Light!" the other young man demanded. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"It's my ex-girlfriend," Light choked out in English. "She's here. On _campus_."

"Holy …" Ethan trailed off in shock, but a moment later, he had whipped out his own phone and was rapidly pushing buttons. "Give me a minute," he said as Ryuk began to snigger behind him. "I'll take care of it."

"You'll what?" Light asked, but at that moment he was assaulted by a tidal wave of high-pitched babbling and screaming.

"Raito!! Oh, Misa is so very, very happy to be talking to you again! Misa missed her Raito so very much! You must tell me where you are. These horrible people here won't tell me where Raito's room is. I told them that Misa is Raito's girlfriend come aaaaall the way from Japan to visit him, but they said that you should have told us where your room is. Then I said that it was a surprise, but they said that they still wouldn't do it and to get the room number from you anyway. Isn't that awful? Misa wanted to surprise Raito by doing up his room a bit and then waiting for him to come home by lying on the bed in some cute lingerie, but these horrid people have _ruined_ it! So you _must _tell me where your room is, oh, but tell Motchi instead because he's better at directions than I am. Hee hee!"

"Misa …"

"No, no, no, Raito, don't say anything! I don't want to hear about how you don't love Misa anymore because we both know that it's not true. Raito is just confused right now. You've been tempted and seduced by some American hussy, so Misa decided that the best thing to do would be to come here and remind Raito of what true, pure love is. You've just been separated from your Misa too long, that's all. Once we're together again, Misa is certain that her Raito will realize that he still loves her, that he's always loved her, and he will propose on the spot and we'll get married and have a lovely little family together and Raito will never again think about another woman!"

Light wanted to shoot himself. What a truly horrible turn of events. Not only was Misa here to annoy the living daylights out of him, but _Mogi _was here as well. Mogi, who had undoubtedly been sent to keep an eye on Misa and would follow her everywhere. Mogi, who, should he ever set eyes on Elijah, would recognize him immediately. And Light had no doubt that Misa would demand to meet not only Charlie who had posed as his girlfriend, but also Elijah, Light's best friend, about whom Misa had complained repeatedly, accusing him of taking up too much of Light's free time when Light could have been talking to Misa instead.

This was definitely bad.

"All right, thanks. Bye," Ethan said into his own phone and snapped it shut. Before he could say anything else, Light snatched it from his hand and replaced it with his.

"Hold this for a minute," he requested, using Ethan's phone to call Elijah. His friend complied without question, but his face contorted into a grimace at the sound of the non-stop female chatter that emanated from the speaker.

"This is gettin' interestin'!" Ryuk exclaimed, but Light pointedly ignored him and waited for Elijah to pick up the other end.

"Hello?"

"'Lij," the stressed genius stated in clipped tones, "I need you to pretend to be sick for me."

"Why, Ethan," his best friend replied with smooth amusement, "your voice seems to have changed."

"I don't have time for that!" Light snapped at him, not appreciating the joke. "This is an emergency."

Elijah paused for a moment, taking in the urgency and mild panic of Light's tone. "I see," he finally said. "What has happened?"

"Misa is here. With Mogi."

"I see," the older man repeated, his tone calm but serious. "I believe I feel an insidious illness creeping up on me. I will inform my parents immediately."

"Thank you," Light sighed in relief.

"You're welcome. And good luck."

Elijah hung up his end, and Light closed the phone, handing it back to Ethan. The other young man took it and offered Light's back, holding the device with two fingers much as Elijah held everything. Misa was still jabbering.

"Does she have an 'off' button?" Ethan half-joked.

"No," Light replied with a tired sigh. Ryuk started sniggering again.

"Well, when she takes a breath long enough for you to talk, tell her to meet us at the sports' complex."

Light looked at the other young man with a mixture of horror and disbelief. "The sports' complex?" he repeated. "That's what you call taking care of it?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" Ethan asked him, sympathy evident on his face.

"No," he admitted, "but she'll never agree to it."

"She already has."

Light sighed and hung his head, defeated. "All right," he muttered, lifting the phone back to his ear. It took a bit of doing, but eventually he got Mogi back on the line and gave him the directions he needed. He hung up before Misa could reclaim the phone for herself.

When they got to the complex and the baseball field, Charlie was waiting for them, her legs spread and her fists on her hips. Her hat and glove lay discarded beside her, and as they approached, she reached up and undid her ponytail, letting her blond hair fan out behind her. Light faltered a step as she did so. He had never seen her with her hair down before; she looked almost feminine. The glower on her face ruined the effect, however.

"I have to warn you," she stated as they stopped in front of her, "I smell like dirt and sweat, but I'll do my best anyway." Her eyes scanned the area behind them. "Where is she?"

"She'll be here soon," Light replied. His face felt hot, and he found he was having trouble meeting Charlie's gaze. "You don't have to do this," he told her.

She brushed him off with a wave of her hand. "I said I'd do it, so I'll do it," she said. Then, turning to Ethan, she ordered, "You, go sit over on the bleachers and wait. While you're there, you can think about what kind of cake you're going to get me."

"Cake?" Light asked as Ethan nodded and walked away.

"Yeah," Charlie replied, shooting him a small grin. "You didn't think I was doing this for free, did you? And as for you guys!" she shouted to the knot of softball players who were watching a few feet away. "Don't just stand there gawking! Go hit some grounders or something."

The girls reluctantly broke apart and wandered off to do as they had been told, leaving Light and Charlie alone next to the vistors' dugout. Surreptitiously, Light looked for where Ryuk had gone and found the Shinigami perched on the backstop like some kind of giant bird. The god was looking straight at him, grinning.

A punch in his shoulder brought Light's attention back to the girl next to him. "Loosen up!" she ordered as he turned to look at her. "I'm only doing this once, so you'd better do your part to make it believable."

He swallowed with a bit of difficulty. Just what were they supposed to make believable?

Charlie laughed at the expression on his face, and finally the hostile aura that had been hanging around her disappeared. "Don't look like that," she chided. "I like you just about as much as you like me, but if you want to get rid of this chick for good, you'll have to act a bit." She took a step closer and, to Light's surprise, slung her arms about his neck. "You can act, right, peacock?" she asked with a flirtatious smile. "I bet you've charmed your way into dozens of girls' hearts."

She was way too close now. He could smell the earth on her skin, not an unpleasant smell but also not something to which he was accustomed. "Um …" he tried.

"Put your arms around my waist," she told him, her voice low and sultry. "Now."

"But …"

"_Raitooooo!!!_"

At that all-too-familiar cry, Light's brain came back on-line and kick-started his body into gear. One arm threaded itself around Charlie's waist and pulled her closer as he turned to smile sweetly at the blonde rocket who was screaming her way toward him. Misa had her arms outstretched as if she were planning on tackling him to the ground, but she pulled up and skidded to a halt as her eyes fell on the other blonde. For several long tense minutes, long enough for Mogi to puff up to a spot somewhere behind Misa, the two girls just stared at each other in silence. Then, Charlie lifted her head from Light's shoulder where she had been resting it and held out her hand.

"You must be Misa," she said with perfect civility. "I'm Chelsea. Light's girlfriend. It's nice to meet you."

Misa didn't even look at the offered hand. Instead, her angry gaze moved to Light. "So," she said in Japanese, "this is her? This is the slut?" When Light refused to grace this with an answer, her eyes cut to the other blonde and began examining her. "She doesn't look like she'd make a good wife," she stated with confidence. "She's too skinny. She looks like a boy! Where are her breasts? How is she supposed to feed Raito's babies if she doesn't have any breasts?"

"She's insulting me, isn't she?" Charlie calmly asked as her hand came back down.

"Yes," Light answered.

"Mmm," she hummed, obviously unconcerned, and settled her head back onto Light's shoulder with her hand resting gently on his chest. Feeling slightly offended on her behalf, Light tightened his own hold on her and rested his chin on the top of her head in a show of protectiveness. He narrowed his eyes at Misa as she bristled at them, silently daring her to say more. So what if Charlie was a bit flat-chested? She still had adequate curves on her lean, muscular body. His hand was resting in the dip of one of those curves right now, and it felt quite nice actually. In fact, if he could forget for the moment that the woman in his arms was loud, overly opinionated, and extremely pushy, he could almost convince himself that he wanted her there at his side. Almost.

Misa looked like a little ball of fluffy gothic fury by this point, ready to explode into a fireball of skulls and kittens. "Get your filthy hands off of my Raito!" she demanded, still in Japanese. "He's mine! Not yours, mine! I'm his wife! So take your slutty paws off and go seduce someone else with that little boy body of yours!"

"Misa!" Light interrupted her sternly, also choosing to speak in Japanese. "That's enough. First of all, she doesn't understand a word you're saying. Second of all, you are _not_ my wife. You're not even my girlfriend. I dumped you weeks ago. It's _over_ between us. I'm with Chelsea now."

"But … but …" Misa's eyes quickly became large and round and began to fill with tears, a classic female tactic. "But Misa came all the way from Japan to see her Raito. Why is Raito being so mean to his Misa?"

"You chose to come here knowing that I was already with someone else," he replied, completely unaffected by the waterworks. "And, I might add, you dragged Mogi-san away from his work to accompany you. You've totally ignored everything I said to you, disrupted my schedule and Mogi-san's because of your own selfishness, and insulted my girlfriend without provocation. I see no reason why I should even try to be nice to you."

The tears flowed down the blonde's face freely, but she straightened herself up for one last attempt at victory. "No!" she cried. "No, I won't accept it! I refuse to be set aside for this American whore!" Eyes flashing, she turned her attention once more on Charlie. "She's blinded Raito so that he can't see her evil plot, but Misa can. Oh, yes, Misa can! She's just using Raito! She doesn't love Raito. And no matter what he thinks, Raito doesn't love her. She's just made him think he does with her lies and her cheap tricks. Raito loves Misa, and Misa loves Raito, and Misa isn't about to stand by and watch her Raito be destroyed by --"

"Oh for Christ's sake, would you just _shut up!_"

Both Light and Misa stared in open shock as Charlie pushed away from Light and closed the distance between herself and the other blonde with a few angry steps.

"Look," she said, getting right in Misa's face, "I have no idea what you're saying, but whatever it is, knock it off! I told you over the phone and I'll tell you again: you've been _dumped_. Light may have been your man in the past, but he isn't anymore. He's _mine_, and for your information, I intend to keep him."

Misa's eyes narrowed at the intrusion, and in broken English she declared, "No, Misa _fight _for Raito."

Sighing and shaking her head, Charlie stepped back a few paces. "Honey," she replied tiredly, "it doesn't matter how willing you are to fight. You've already lost." She crossed back to Light and stood in front of him. Over her shoulder, she said to Misa, "If words won't convince you, maybe this will."

Light knew exactly what was coming, but before he could do anything to stop it, Charlie had grabbed him and slammed their lips together. He instinctively tried to pull away, but her hands held him fast long enough for him to remember what they were trying to accomplish and to realize that this was a necessary evil to obtain their goal. Resigning himself to kissing this hated firebrand, he relaxed and encircled her waist with his arms. Charlie relaxed as well, pressing her lean body up against him and moving her hands into his hair.

And it was at that moment that, as far as Light was concerned, everything went straight to hell.

Charlie's lips parted slightly against his, and she expertly slid her tongue into his mouth. Once inside, she began to caress his tongue sensually with her own, coaxing it into reciprocating with gentle but confident strokes. Light was responding before he could stop himself, and a heartbeat later, he was kissing Charlie deeply, tangling their tongues together in a heady dance of unexpected passion. He pulled her closer, relishing every curve as it fit against his own body, feeling the muscles under her skin positively thrum with strength and warmth. Her hands stroked his hair gently, pausing now and again to massage circles into his scalp. He released one of his own hands from her waist to slide up her back into her own hair; the ends were stiff with sweat but the rest was surprisingly soft, like spun silk.

Light had never had a girl kiss him like this before. His high-school girlfriends had all been too nervous, too inexperienced. They had kissed like the virgins they were. Takada from To-Oh had been an ice sculpture: beautiful to look at but forever stationary and cold. Kissing her had been as stony and frigid an affair as one might expect from the Ice Queen. And kissing Misa had been like kissing a dog: too much energy and enthusiasm and saliva. She had always made it perfectly clear through her kisses that she was eternally devoted to him, but while Light was more than happy to accept and use that loyalty, it wasn't exactly a turn on for him.

Charlie kissed like a pro, confident and sexy. She kissed with her whole body -- hips pressing, hands moving, tongue teasing. This was more than a simple gesture of affection; this was an all-out seduction, and Light was rapidly losing himself. Forgetting that he felt nothing but annoyance for the woman in his arms. Forgetting that it was all an act. Forgetting that they had an audience.

A sudden chorus of cat calls and wolf whistles from the field surprised him into breaking away, but Charlie quickly caught him and pulled him back in, her lips now curved in a smile as she continued to kiss him. Her teammates took this as encouragement and whooped even more loudly, shouting out congratulations and the occasional raunchy comment. Perhaps as a response to their reactions, perhaps to egg them on further, she lifted her right leg and slung it around Light's hips. An unusual streak of playfulness shot through Light as she did so, and the hand that was stroking her hair came down to clasp the leg more tightly to him and to support it. A wild roar of approval poured from the other athletes, causing Charlie to fall out of the kiss, laughing. Still holding her to him, Light joined her, resting his forehead against her shoulder as he laughed with abandon.

He felt light, giddy. A strange combination of joy and arousal. And for some strange reason, he sort of wanted to kiss her some more. The stray thought passed through his foggy mind that perhaps he should ask her to be his girlfriend for real, but thankfully enough of his sense remained to inform him that he would be horrified by that suggestion once he had come down off of this bizarre high. For now, he would just enjoy the rare occurrence of being happy in Charlie's presence. The mortification would come later.

"Knock it off!" she was shouting to the other girls. "Can't a girl make out with a hot guy in peace anymore?" That produced a few more whistles which she waved off with a grin. "Aw, shut up! You're all just jealous!" Returning her attention to Light who was still in the midst of a giggle-fit on her shoulder, she nudged him gently with her nose and said, "Come on, pretty boy. Look alive." She wiggled her leg a bit, trying to get it free.

Obeying both of the implied orders, Light dropped her leg and lifted his head to meet her gaze. For a frozen heartbeat, he found himself stunned into silence by the sparkling blue of her eyes. She was smiling at him, a calm, almost fond expression. It was so unlike the usual energy that always lightened up her face, and yet it still looked like it belonged there. It was still Charlie. Her soft, vulnerable side that she never let anyone see.

While Light was still marveling at this change in the she-devil he thought he knew, Charlie leaned in and placed a single kiss on his lips -- soft, tender, intimate. Then, her expression hardened and her eyes slipped sideways even as her body turned slightly in his grasp. Light followed her gaze and understood immediately.

Oh yeah. Misa.

She was standing there in utter shock, her eyes staring and her mouth hanging open. As motionless as the pictures for which she always posed. Her expression was one of betrayal and despair, her body language of the completely crushed. A silent accusation lingered in her eyes: _You never kissed me like that_.

Mogi, Light noticed, had politely turned away and was carefully investigating the side of a building.

Shifting slightly so that he held Charlie to his side like he had at the beginning, Light looked pointedly at his ex-girlfriend and asked, "So, Misa, do you understand now?"

Slowly, life returned to the small blonde girl. Her mouth closed, her back straightened, and her eyes began to fill with unshed tears. "Yes, Raito," she replied quietly. "Misa understands."

"Good."

"Misa understands that Raito is too far gone to save."

"Exac -- what?" He stared at her, not believing what he was hearing.

"Raito has been completely seduced," Misa continued, nodding sagely to herself. "Misa cannot save him from his fate. However, Misa will be faithful and wait. When the American whore tires of Raito, Misa will be there to mend his broken heart." Smiling beatifically, she clasped her hands together and declared, "Broken and alone, Raito will seek out his one true beloved, and Misa will welcome him back with open arms to heal in her loving embrace!"

"What's she babbling about now?" Charlie murmured to him.

"You don't want to know," he informed her, resisting the urge to slap a hand over his face in disgust. As ridiculous as the girl's fantasies were, if they got her away from him for good he wasn't going to complain.

"Come on, Motchi," Misa called, apparently perfectly content with how the situation had turned out. "Let's go." She turned and began to skip away, trusting that Mogi would follow her.

"Wait, Mogi-san!" Light called as the big detective began to leave. It didn't seem right to him to have the man come all the way to America and then leave again without at least exchanging words.

As if reading Light's mind, Mogi lifted up his phone and said, "I'll call you when we find a hotel." His eyes flickered to Charlie who still stood in Light's arms. Solemnly, he apologized, "Again, I'm sorry about this, Raito-kun."

Light waved it off, saying, "It's not your fault. Don't worry about it. I'll talk to you later, Mogi-san." The big man nodded and wandered away after Misa, leaving Light to sigh in relief that it was finally over.

A few minutes later, after both Misa and Mogi had disappeared around the corner of a building, Charlie straightened up and punched Light in the shoulder. "There you go," she announced with a grin. "Mission accomplished."

"Yeah," he replied, reluctantly dropping his arm from her waist. That heady pleasure from kissing her hadn't completely faded away yet, and he found himself unwilling to let her go. Fixing on a friendly smile to hide his disappointment, he said, "Thanks for your help, Charlie."

"Not a problem," she replied easily. The sound of clapping cut off any further comments she might have had, and they both turned to see Ethan approaching them from the bleachers.

"That was quite a show," he joked, smiling. "Excellent job, both of you. For a minute there, I actually believed you were going out."

"Ha!" Charlie laughed, causing a strange pain to twist in Light's stomach. "The miracle of acting, my friend. The miracle of acting."

"Indeed," Ethan agreed. Then, with more seriousness, he asked her, "So when did you want the cake?"

To both males' surprise, Charlie waved a hand and announced, "Forget the cake. I'm good."

"Really?" Ethan pressed, astounded to be let off so easily.

"Yes, really," she assured him. Turning her gaze to the other brunet, she smirked and added, "Thank Light for being such a great kisser." While the talented person in question began to turn red, she retrieved her hat and glove and shoved them on her head and hand respectively. "Now, gentlemen," she stated, "I have a practice to get to, so while you're welcome to stay and watch, you'll have to do so without me. See ya!" She took a few steps towards the field, but before she got too far, she stopped, turned, and came back to Light. Reaching up with her free hand, she grabbed him by the chin and pulled him down for one more brief, tongue-heavy kiss; then, licking her lips a little, she winked at Ethan and stated, "Icing," before walking off for good.

Light felt for sure that his face was going to catch on fire. The full weight of what had happened was finally settling on him. He had made out with a hated enemy … and _liked _it. A large number of the enemy's friends had witnessed the event as had one of his own friends and the obnoxious Shinigami who hadn't the slightest idea when to keep his mouth shut. And to top it all off, he had just been compared to a cake.

This was nothing short of the deepest level of Hell.

"Are you okay, Light?" Ethan asked as the addressed man dropped his head into his hands with a pained groaned.

"Kill me," Light muttered in response. "Someone just kill me now."

Ethan simply smiled sympathetically in response, took Light gently by the shoulders, and led him home.

* * *


	22. Chapter 22

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Probably fewer than five chapters left at this point. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me this far.

* * *

**Chapter 22**

"I see," Elijah said with a smirk. "And then what happened?"

On the other end of the line, Light huffed indignantly. "What do you mean what happened?" he demanded, managing to sound affronted and embarrassed at the same time.

"I mean was it a lips-only kiss or did you use your tongue? Did you dip her like in a black-and-white movie? Did you try to steal second base while you were at it? Did you _enjoy_ it?"

A thumb pressed against his upturned lips, Elijah moved the phone a little ways from his ear and patiently waited for the explosion. It came exactly three seconds later.

"_Elijah!_" the receiver in his fingers near-screamed. "That is none of your damn business!"

He returned the phone to his ear, his mind happily imagining the exact shade of red adorning the other's face at the moment. "But Light," he argued with a grin, "I am your best friend. Don't best friends share details about their romantic encounters?"

"That's girls, you idiot," Light snapped. "And this was not a romantic encounter of any sort. This was an attempt to get rid of Misa."

"Which apparently worked?" Elijah said more as a question than as a statement.

"Yeah," Light answered, and the elder could tell from his tone that the younger man had finally calmed down from his teasing. "I think it did. Mogi called me when the two of them found a place to stay, and we decided to meet for lunch tomorrow. Misa has an audition at that time, and if she actually goes to it instead of skipping out to see me, I'll believe that it really did work."

"Should I stay sick for another day just in case?"

"Yes, I think that would be wise."

"Very well then."

A gentle pause fell between them, and Elijah found his eyes straying to the object that rested on the bed next to his feet. As amusing as it was to hear of Light and Charlie pretending to be lovers and kissing in public, the ex-detective had other things on his mind at the moment. Things more vital to his own desires and goals.

"Light?" he asked after a moment of thought. "Have you seen today's paper by any chance?"

"The paper?" his friend echoed. "No, not today. I haven't had the time."

"I see." One long finger trailed along a prominent heading on the front page, lazily tracing the large black letters.

"Why?" Light asked, interrupting his musings. "Did something happen?"

"No," Elijah assured him quickly, raising his attention once more from the pages. "It's nothing. I was just curious."

"Oh, all right then." On the other end of the phone line, Light took a deep breath and let it out again, then said, "Look, 'Lij, I'm going to hang up and go to bed. I'm really tired." Elijah began to comment, but before he could open his mouth, Light was talking again, although this time not to him. "What? But I just bought you some. … You ate them _all_? … Well, tough. I'm exhausted, and I'm not going out again tonight."

Understanding, Elijah closed his mouth and smiled to himself. Ryuk was extremely predictable at times. However, at other times he was less so. Such as that moment when he had become very protective of his right to Light's life. The Shinigami was a permanent unknown, a widely-fluctuating variable, one that Elijah knew he could not control. Elijah hated things he could not control. Therefore, he had decided, it would be beneficial to his future plans to remove Ryuk from the equation entirely.

He truly hoped that doing so would not be as difficult as he suspected it would be.

Keeping his tone neutral, he said to Light, "We have apples here."

The other man predictably reacted with surprise and disbelief. "What?" he asked. "You can't be serious. You don't want him over there."

"I don't mind," Elijah insisted, hoping that his friend wouldn't argue too much. While he could always simply ask Light to send Ryuk over, he doubted the younger man would do so without wanting to know why Elijah wanted him. The blond doubted that stating he wanted to have a talk with Ryuk without Light around would go over well.

A few minutes of half-hearted arguing elapsed before Light gave in. "Okay, it's your headache," he said, and Elijah could easily picture the shrug that went along with that resigned tone. On the other end, Light relayed the offer to Ryuk and, a moment later, said his good-byes and hung up. Elijah hung up his end as well and took a moment to stare at the newspaper beside him. Then he went and got the apples.

The Shinigami arrived in his traditional fashion: through the wall. Elijah said nothing when he appeared, simply held out an apple by its stem for Ryuk to take.

"Thanks," the god said, grasping the red fruit eagerly. He crunched into it, one large bite taking nearly half of the apple away at once, and then, while he chewed, gazed at Elijah appraisingly. "So, did you want to say somethin' to me or somethin'?"

Elijah blinked a little in honest surprise at the question. "I did," he admitted. "How did you guess?"

"Well," Ryuk answered around a second mouthful of apple, "you don't exactly like me. So, I figured if you were offerin' apples, you either wanted to get me away from Light so that he could sleep or you wanted to talk about somethin'. The first one didn't sound as likely, so I went with the second." A glint of teeth and the smacking of lips and the rest of the apple disappeared.

Smiling, Elijah reached for another one. "You are smarter than I gave you credit for," he stated with a tinge of respect.

"Yup," Ryuk grinned at him. "Playin' dumb means people underestimate you." His dull eyes followed the path of Elijah's hand as it picked up the second apple. Instead of giving it to him, however, the blond twirled it a little by the stem, first one way, then the other. After about a minute of this, Ryuk shook his head and asked, "You gonna give that to me or just spin it?"

Instead of answering, Elijah picked up the newspaper with the fingers of his free hand. "Take a look at this," he ordered, bringing it into Ryuk's line of sight.

Dutifully, the Shinigami obeyed, taking a step closer to see better. "Huh," he commented when he had finished. "Light's not gonna be pleased when he sees this."

"No," Elijah agreed. "He most certainly is not." Carefully, he laid the paper back on the bed.

The article in question was the latest in a long string of speculations of Kira's plans and movements. However, while all the others had been hesitant to make any definite statements, this one all but concluded that Kira had died or been secretly caught by L. In the journalist's opinion, the absence of mass judgments had gone on too long. The crime rate had doubled -- _tripled_ in some locations -- and yet Kira had not wiped out all of the new offenders as he had done after the first period of silence. The article mentioned the seven deaths that had occurred recently but passed them off as insufficient evidence for Kira's return. Since then, the writer firmly stated, there had been no other deaths attributable to Kira.

"Ryuk," Elijah asked, unseeing eyes staring at black words on newsprint, "has Light killed anyone else other than the seven he started with?"

"Gimme the apple and I'll tell you."

The blond did so with a sigh of mild annoyance. Ignoring this entirely, the Shinigami took one juicy bite before answering, "He has, but he can never seem to find more than one or two at a time. It takes him too long to do each one."

"I thought as much," Elijah murmured, half to himself. As his fingers worked to fold and put away the newspaper, his mind thought of Light. Of how it would feel to have one's hard work ignored by the world, to have it declared non-existent. Of how a proud, dedicated young man might react to such treatment. Of the thoughts and emotions that would grow and stir within his mind and heart.

To Ryuk, he said, "If Light continues in this fashion, it won't be long before the world believes that Kira is completely gone. If that happens, it is my belief that Light will find himself forced to make a choice: to continue on in eternal anonymity, sacrificing me in the process, or to give up the dream he has been living for these past few years to try to make a difference in another way. Do you agree?"

Ryuk shrugged one shoulder in uncaring nonchalance. "If you say so," he rumbled, playing with the remaining third of his second apple between his long fingers. "You're the smart one."

"Will you not encourage him to keep the Death Note?"

"'Course I will," the Shinigami replied with a sideways glance at the blond on the bed. "But Light doesn't listen much to me. Never has. I've been tryin' to get him to use the Note more this past week, but he won't do it."

"I see." Elijah took a breath to steel himself against a sudden and irrational bout of nervousness. Ryuk had made no threatening gestures towards him, and yet the god's aura seemed to have closed in on him as they spoke. Like a great shadow slinking along the walls of his room to encircle him from behind. Lifting his chin to bolster his own spirit, he continued, "In the event that Light chooses to try a different method to obtain his dreams, there will be a few unresolved issues to deal with. In particular, the subject of the life owed to you."

For a slow heartbeat, Ryuk did not respond. Then, he tossed the rest of the apple into his mouth and bit down on it. The fruit disappeared in a matter of seconds, leaving only the faint shimmer of juices on pointed teeth as the Shinigami grinned wickedly at him. Elijah felt the air constricting around him as he gazed into those dead, unblinking eyes.

"That's right," Ryuk purred.

Swallowing hard, Elijah reached for a third apple and held it up so that it rested on the pads of his upturned fingers. "I would like to make an additional deal with you," he stated evenly. "One that would ensure that you will never be tempted to take Light's life, no matter how bored you get."

The nasty grin widened into something more amused, and in an instant, the oppressive atmosphere had vanished. "Oho!" Ryuk laughed. "That sounds interestin'. Go ahead and tell me."

Elijah nodded as his self-confidence returned in the absence of that choking aura. Lifting the fruit in his hand a little higher, he stated, "Three dozen apples, to be picked up on the first of each month from whichever location I happen to be living in at the time, from the time he destroys the Notes all the way until the event of either his death or mine."

The offer had a visible effect on Ryuk. His back straightened and his dull eyes lit up at the thought of a lifetime supply of free apples. However, a moment later his expression darkened again. "How is that going to work?" he demanded, sounding irritated. "To pick them up, I'd have to come into the human world, and I'm not supposed to do that unless I have a contract with a human."

"You will have one," Elijah informed him. "With me. We will be making a contract for Light's life, and in order to fulfill that contract, you will be required to travel to the human world once a month to pick up your payment."

Silence fell for a few minutes as Ryuk considered the deal. Elijah carefully watched every twitch of that ugly face and felt his confidence soar. A life may have been more desirable than apples, but apparently for Ryuk, it was a very close race.

"Heh," Ryuk finally said, laughing, "Light would be pissed to know we were here bargainin' over his life."

Unconcerned by this, Elijah shrugged and stated, "I have no intention of telling him. You can if you like, but I'm sure it would be more pleasant for all parties if you didn't."

"I gotta agree with that." A pointed grin split his face again, but this time the shadows stayed where they belonged. "And the life that's owed me?" Ryuk asked.

"You seemed interested in the prospect of Miss Amane," Elijah answered.

"Well, yeah," Ryuk admitted. "But Light wasn't too happy about me taking her instead of him."

The blond bit back a sigh and a wave of guilt. He had to admit he wasn't very happy about this part of the solution either, but he could think of no better way. Putting on a stern, unemotional face, he forced himself to say, "Light is not part of this discussion right now. And I doubt if a Death God such as yourself cares much about the opinions of a human. The deal I am offering you is this: In exchange for giving up your claim to Light Yagami's life, you will take Misa Amane's. As payment for continuing to leave him alone, I will give you three dozen apples a month for the duration of his life. I will also throw in an additional dozen apples in the first pick-up only should you arrange it so that Misa dies quietly and without pain in her sleep." He paused for a breath, then finished, "What say you, Shinigami Ryuk?"

Staring into those dead eyes, waiting for his answer, Elijah couldn't help but think of all the men throughout the history of fiction who had made deals with demons just as he was about to do. They almost always ended up regretting it in some form or another. Sometimes they were saved, sometimes by themselves, often by others. Most of the time, they were damned. And yet, as Elijah watched the grin spread and the crimson eyes glow, he knew that even if given the opportunity to relive this moment a hundred times, he would do the same thing each time. Elijah knew he'd risk eternal damnation and more if it was for Light.

"Mr. McCormick, you've got yourself a deal."

xXx

Light lay on his bed, hands tucked neatly behind his head, and stared at the ceiling of his dorm room. He was alone for the moment; Ryuk had gone out for a mid-night flight around the town to stretch his wings and probably cause a fair amount of mischief. The young man left behind was extremely glad for the solitude. It gave him peace in which to brood and think.

On the bed next to him, his discarded phone lay in a fold of the sheets. If his life were a cartoon, the little electronic device would have had a trail of smoke rising from it or perhaps it would have been weeping silently to itself. Either would have adequately expressed the torture the phone had recently endured as Light's hand had closed ever more tightly around it in his mounting frustration. A cheaper device most certainly would have been crushed under the onslaught.

Light had always known that life and the world in general were unfair. That ugly truth had been part of the driving force behind Kira in the first place. He had wanted to bring justice back into the world, at least for those who had been denied it by the criminal actions of others. Yet, in spite of knowing this, he couldn't help feeling angry and disappointed with the way things had turned out.

The investigation team wanted to close down the Kira case. They had taken a vote in Light's absence, and the decision had been unanimous. Light's father had told him on the phone that, as he was currently acting as the head of the team, Light had the final say in the matter, but the pressure to give up was heavy and obvious. There just wasn't enough evidence, Soichiro had argued, to support the theory that Kira was alive and active. They were wasting away their lives and their careers waiting for data that wasn't appearing.

Ironically, dissolving the investigation team was the last thing Light wanted to do at the moment. A year or two ago, he would have welcomed the elimination of his primary obstacle and reveled in the freedom it brought. But now, it was the final insult to three weeks worth of injury. An inescapable death knell, the proverbial nail in his coffin.

The media had all but given up on him. Only the most dedicated venues like Sakura TV continued to hold out hope for Kira's return, although that station's plans for a show dedicated to Kira had been scrapped. His abandonment by the media would not have upset Light quite as much if his followers had not begun to follow suit. The volume of traffic on the Kira sites he frequented had steadily diminished, and a quick search had revealed that several lesser sites had shut down completely. While plenty of support remained, Light had noticed that most of them were the raving, rabid type. The followers whom he could respect, the logical ones who would have seen his changes and adapted to them, were deserting him one by one.

Light sighed and shut tired, aching eyes. He knew why this had happened. Because he had changed his criteria for judgment, resulting in fewer deaths and longer breaks in between them so that he could do adequate research. While the individuals of the world almost certainly would have applauded his new actions and grown to support him even more, those individuals would never know about them. Because individuals relied on the media to tell them what was happening around the world, and the media wasn't interested in good deeds on a small scale. The media wanted large, flashy, non-stop. The media wanted dozens of deaths every day, not one or two a week. The media wanted KIRA, all in caps and preferably in neon colors.

He was facing a choice. He knew it, and he hated it beyond anything he could imagine. Why couldn't the world just be fair for once in its pathetic existence? Why did it insist on denying him and laughing at his noble intentions? Was it truly such a terrible thing to want to make the world a better place? Apparently, if his current situation was anything to go by, it was.

Three roads lay before him now, and he could see far enough down them all to know that none of them led to an entirely satisfactory future. To choose road one, he would simply continue what he had been doing and ignore the reactions of the public. At the end of this road lay a world where the only ones who would benefit from Light's actions would be the families and friends of the victims of the criminals he punished. No threat of death would keep criminals from performing their violent acts, and no feelings of security would comfort the innocent populace. Kira would fade into non-existence, never receiving the credit for the deeds he had done. As for Light himself, he would go on reading, searching, researching, and killing, all without a break or a shred of recognition. He would be free from the fear of capture and condemnation, but he would end up sacrificing his free time and his best friend for no reward.

Road two led backwards, to a world where Kira killed anyone who had done wrong, regardless of whether or not they had received a trial or what the verdict had been. The world would know Kira again, criminals would cower in hiding, and upstanding people would feel safe, knowing that Kira was looking out for them. Yet, along this road, the game of L versus Kira would continue, and Light would eventually have to play it with L's successors as well. Light didn't like the thought of this road. It was dangerous, he would lose Elijah, and he would have to compromise his new ideals. The only benefit he could see to this road was that it would accomplish his primary goal of reducing crime.

The final road was the one that Light had never thought he would be considering. To take this road, he would give up the Death Note. Kira would die, and the world would return to the rotten cesspool that it had been before that fateful afternoon when he had noticed a black object falling to the ground outside his high school classroom. Assuming that Light could convince Ryuk not to kill him, Light would forget everything. Yet, he would have Elijah, and Elijah had promised to help him ascend into a position worthy of his skills and intelligence. He would never be able to help as many as he had helped as Kira, but with his new power and resources, he would be making a difference for many while receiving the credit he deserved. With every day that passed, this choice became more and more tempting, and the shame that assaulted him when he considered it became less and less.

A soft chiming from his computer broke Light's thoughts and alerted him to the fact that he had new email. Cracking open one eye, he peered over at the screen to check the sender. The name he saw brought a small smile to his lips: Mikami. For the first time since hanging up with his father, he felt the desire to move, to do something. Freeing his hands from behind his head, Light pushed himself up, rose from the bed, and crossed to his computer to read the message that he had just received.

The two young men had been sending puzzles back and forth to each other, mental exercises with which to judge the other person's intelligence and reasoning capabilities. Mikami had started it by sending Light a fairly easy legal problem; Light had answered it in a matter of minutes and sent a sample police case back. He had come to look forward to the lawyer's messages, not for the puzzles but for the opportunity to witness Mikami's thinking processes. The other young man's answers were always correct, and he laid out his conclusions with rigid discipline. Occasionally, he would miss a particularly subtle nuance, but since Mikami wasn't on his or Elijah's level, Light wasn't expecting perfection. Still, the other man's responses were always satisfactory and frequently excellent.

His mood slightly improved simply by the presence of the message, Light read Mikami's answers to his latest puzzle. As usual, a puzzle for him followed. Light opened up a reply window and answered Mikami's puzzle easily. However, this time he did not offer another of his own. The lawyer had passed his tests, and Light had no doubt that he had long since passed any the other man might have had. It was time to take their relationship forward.

_My email provider has the option of online chat_, he wrote in his reply. _If yours is compatible, would you care to chat with me sometime? _Quickly, he finished up and hit "Send".

A few minutes later, while Light was in the middle of researching a man who had been acquitted of triple homicide, a new window unexpectedly opened on his screen.

**Yes, **it read,** I would enjoy that very much.**

A dazzling grin burst into life on Light's face. All his fatigue vanished in an instant. Mikami had actually created a new account of his own with Light's free provider, keeping the same username so that Light could recognize him. Abandoning all of his work until further notice, he minimized everything except the chat window and replied, _I'm glad. While our email exchange was entertaining, I think it would be far more interesting to have an actual discussion._

Mikami's response popped up immediately. **I agree.** Then, a moment later, he added, **You have not been on the forums lately. Have classes kept you busy?**

_Not classes so much as personal activities, but yes, I have been busy. How have the discussions on the threads been in my absence?_

**Terrible. All anyone can talk about is how Kira has abandoned us. It is complete idiocy if you ask me. There is no way that a God such as Kira could have died or been captured.**

Light flinched a little. So, Mikami thought of Kira as a god, not as a person. He supposed he should not be surprised. Only someone with god-like powers could kill so many without detection, and the things that made Light human -- his flaws and his mistakes -- were not widely known.

Tentatively, he typed in, _So you have not lost faith in him?_

**Absolutely not**, the reply came back immediately. **Surely you have not lost faith?**

Light's fingers moved before he could stop them. As soon as he realized what had happened, he yanked his hands away from the keyboard as if it were on fire. The cursor blinked at him from the end of a line of text, waiting for him to hit the enter key and turn a possibility that he did not want to accept into a terrible, stone-solid reality.

_Actually, I have._

One hand lifted to cover the lower half of his face as he stared and stared at those three words. Horror rippled through him as he realized that they were true. He had lost faith in what Kira could do. And worse, he had lost faith in himself. He was stuttering, stumbling, unsure of which road to take, of which path to choose. His self-confidence had been cracking for months now, and it had finally splintered enough that he could not mend the breaks on his own anymore.

Slowly, his right index finger moved to hover over the enter key. Slowly, it lowered until the pad of skin gently rested on the small strip of plastic.

"Come on, Teru," he whispered in a desperate plea, "convince me." He pressed down.

For the next thirty minutes, messages flew back and forth between the two young men as Mikami tried to reestablish Light's belief in Kira. They hashed through all the usual arguments just as Light and Elijah had done over the summer, although this time Light was on the opposite side. He purposely brought up several of the points that Charlie and Lily had presented, hoping that Mikami could offer a different perspective on them that would ease Light's mind more successfully. Unfortunately, Mikami had the habit of relying on the "Kira is God" argument whenever he had nothing better, and Light knew that that reasoning was rubbish.

_Why are you so convinced that Kira is a supernatural being?_ he finally asked when he could take no more. _I've already proven that he makes mistakes and is therefore not omniscient._

**No, you have not**, Mikami argued. **Just because we believed those victims to be innocents does not mean they were. They could have been harboring violent or disturbing thoughts within themselves, meriting their elimination. Kira knew of the perversion of their souls and therefore erased them. That is what I believe. Kira is God and God is Kira.**

Light sighed and shook his head as he typed, _But why? What has Kira done that has convinced you so deeply?_

A long pause followed in which Mikami typed his answer. Light waited patiently, head resting in one hand, but when the text finally appeared, he sat up straight in shock and disbelief.

**I know because God has been punishing the wicked like this ever since I was a child. Recently, He has performed these actions on a much larger scale, leading to His being dubbed "Kira" by the world, but He has been punishing evil for many years beforehand.**

**During my school years, I always fought for justice and righteousness for the persecuted and abused. God rewarded my unwavering devotion to justice by deleting the evil that I struggled against. Fourteen people were erased from the face of the planet because I rejected them as unworthy of life, including my mother who attempted to stop me in my pursuit of justice. When Kira appeared before the world, I recognized Him for who He is: the God who has been supporting me ever since I was in middle school.**

For several seconds, Light could only stare at the screen. What a macabre past this man had! And in spite of his beliefs, none of it was due to Light. Mikami was older than Light, so by the time Light received the Death Note, Mikami would have long graduated from high school. It had all been a series of grotesque coincidences.

One thing stood out for Light, however, and he couldn't help writing, _Why did your mother try to stop you?_

Mikami's answer came back immediately. **I was being beaten up by bullies on a daily basis. When I confided in her, she told me to stop fighting the evil of the world. I concluded she was not righteous, and soon after, she and four of the bullies died when God rewarded me for the first time.**

A shiver ran through Light at the lack of emotion or remorse in that final statement. He wanted to point out that his mother had only been trying to protect him, that that's what mothers _did_, but somehow he knew that Mikami would completely reject that reasoning. Mikami, Light realized with growing horror, was the man that Light had been destined to become if he had continued walking down his previous path. A man who held his own concept of right and justice above everything and everyone else, including his own family. A man who could watch the ones who loved him die without flinching.

And what was worse, Light thought as he continued his conversation with the other man, was that Mikami, for all his intelligence and logic, was still at heart just a rabid, raving Kira-fanatic. His old self would have been thrilled with such a find and pounced upon Mikami intent on exploiting him as much as possible. His new self just felt disappointed and depressed. He had thought that he had found at least one sane individual who still supported him in spite of the media's abandonment; now he knew he had been mistaken.

Slowly, Light wound down the discussion, pretending little by little that Mikami had convinced him and renewed his trust and belief in Kira. They agreed to sign off soon after that as it was the middle of the night for Light. Mikami expressed his enjoyment of their conversation and requested that they have another one soon. Light pretended to feel the same way and agreed to the suggestion, saying that they could communicate via email to find a time that was good for both of them. Once Mikami had signed out, Light began the process of shutting down his computer.

The smile that had lit up Light's face upon receiving Mikami's chat request was long gone. The lawyer had been completely unable to ease any of his anxieties or bolster his diminished self-confidence. Even though he had promised to converse with the other man again in the near future, Light didn't really see the point. Even with his intelligence, Mikami was no better than any other fanatical Kira supporter. He might as well be another Misa. Worse than Misa, for his thoughts on righteousness bordered on the disturbed. At least Misa would not have condemned her own mother for loving her and not shed a tear when the woman died.

But no, Light thought to himself as he crawled into bed and pulled the covers up around his shoulders. He was being too harsh on the young lawyer. Mikami might be overly obsessed with the concept of justice, but he was still a smart, dedicated young man. He would undoubtedly make a fine lawyer, one who could not be bought or swayed, one who would not give up on a case because it was too difficult. Mikami would be the kind of lawyer that the justice system needed. In fact, the young man would more than likely be able to assure a conviction as long as he was given the proper evidence by the authorities.

Buried beneath covers and surrounded by darkness, Light's body stilled and his breathing evened. What if he were the one providing evidence to Mikami? What if Mikami were the lawyer who tried the cases he had investigated? What if the two young men worked together in their shared quest for justice and morality? When one took into account the power and influence that Light would gain from a position as L, the possibilities became tremendous. And if one thought to include Elijah in the equation as well as his two unnamed successors, then … _then _…

Light squeezed his eyes shut and fisted one hand in the fabric that lay over his heart. He couldn't think about this now. Not now. Decisions of this magnitude should never be made in the middle of the night when the body and mind were tired and emotions were running hot. He would think about it tomorrow when he was rested and calm and when he was not drowning in darkness and self-doubt and fear. Tomorrow, he would be able to see more clearly. Tomorrow, he would be able to reason.

Tomorrow, he would choose.

* * *


	23. Chapter 23

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: This chapter was actually half-written only a few days after the last post. And then I went and clicked on a YouTube link for the live-action _Bleach _musical. Came up for air two weeks later. *sheepish grin* At least I can now say that I am a die-hard Kira fan. Izuru, that is. He's just too cute for words.

And today's my birthday. I am now 33. Kowai.

* * *

**Chapter 23**

Two weeks later, Light sat on a bench near the college's chemistry building and stared at his shoes. He had been on his way home from class when the depression that had been constantly haunting him had suddenly crashed down and brought him, literally, to a halt. Luckily, there had been a bench nearby or he might have just crumpled up on the ground in spite of the indignity of it. This weight that pressed down on his shoulders was just too much to carry anymore, and as Light sat there, he knew he wouldn't be moving any time soon.

Fourteen tomorrows had come and gone, and he had yet to make a decision about his future. Mentally, he knew what choice he was going to make, but whenever he tried to actually do it, he couldn't bring himself to go through with it. Instead, he kept pushing the moment of truth aside, kept searching for an answer that was not there, kept hoping for a change that would not come. It was such a futile action, and yet he could not stop himself, just as he couldn't stop the dark emotions that continued to seep into his body down to his bones.

"Hey, Light," Ryuk asked from somewhere behind him, "what's the matter? You sick?"

"No," Light responded automatically. His normally sharp mind felt dull and full of fog. Perhaps that was why his feet had captured all of his attention.

"You sure?" Ryuk insisted. "Seems to me you've been out of energy lately. Maybe you've got mono."

Light laughed a little in spite of himself. After a quick check to make sure no one else was around, he turned his head slightly in the direction of the Shinigami's voice and asked, "How on earth do you know about mono?"

"I know lots about human diseases," Ryuk answered with obvious amusement in his tone. "Like I know that mono is called the 'kissing disease'. Maybe you got it from that blondie."

"Ryuk, I do _not_ have mono," Light protested, turning his attention back to his shoes. He slouched a little into the bench and dipped his head into the collar of his coat to hopefully hide the blush that was slowly creeping up his neck. He really didn't want to think about Charlie right now, not on top of everything else.

In the three weeks since he had kissed her, Light had only seen the blonde woman a handful of times, but all of them had been inexplicably difficult and embarrassing. She had acted exactly the same way that she always did, and yet, for some reason, every time he saw her, Light felt awkward and unsure around her. Even though she had never once mentioned that afternoon or even bothered to ask after Misa at all, Light kept reliving that kiss at the mere sight of her. He kept remembering the thrilling feeling of holding her close and the tender yet strong desire to not let her go. And he kept finding himself fantasizing about kissing her again, in private this time and without interruption.

Had anyone else described these feelings he was having, Light would have concluded that the unfortunate guy was suffering from a crush. However, that couldn't possibly be the case in this instance. There was no way this side of Hell that _he _was crushing on anyone. He was Light Yagami. Girls crushed on him, not vice versa. And even if he did decide to one day give this whole "love" thing a shot and allow himself to open up to a woman, he would never choose the _she-devil_, not in a million lifetimes. Therefore, since there wasn't any good reason to think about Charlie at the moment, Light was completely justified in deciding to ignore Ryuk entirely until further notice.

Behind him, the annoying Shinigami was chuckling at something, but Light stared at his knees instead. He could feel the darkness descending again, like some great black shadow covering him in his own personal night. Funny how the depression and the darkness and the fog made his knees so very interesting. In reality, he couldn't see the knees themselves as they were covered by his pants, but he could see their outlines and imagine what they must look like underneath. They were good knees, as knees went. He had taken good care of them, too. Hadn't skinned them very often. Hadn't banged them up or wrenched them. _She_ had probably had skinned knees for the majority of her grade school years. Maybe even high school, too.

No, he _wasn't_ going to think about her.

And what the hell was Ryuk laughing about?

"Hey, pretty boy," a familiar voice suddenly said directly above him. "What are you doing here all by yourself?"

Light's stomach immediately dropped through the bench and hit the dirt below. Slowly, he lifted his gaze from his knees and found another set standing only a few inches away. These knees, however, were not covered by fabric; they were bare with the hem of a pair of sweatpant shorts brushing the skin slightly above them. Light's gaze rose further, past a simple white T-shirt, and up to meet a pair of familiar blue eyes. The second his eyes met hers, his throat constricted itself almost completely shut. The small part of his brain that wasn't frozen by her presence or fogged by his depression concluded that Ryuk must have seen her coming. Hence, the laughter.

Charlie frowned at him, put off by his silence, the expression on his face, or both. She prodded his ankle lightly with one sneakered foot and asked, "What's wrong? You look like someone ran over your dog."

Light's body finally kick-started itself back into gear, and he quickly slipped a smile onto his face. "Nothing's wrong," he lied with practiced ease. "I'm just a little tired today. That's all. I'm fine."

Charlie, however, wasn't buying it. "Uh-huh," she responded dryly. "You don't look fine. What happened? Did you get an A-minus on a test or something?" Her eyes suddenly widened comically and she whispered in fake horror, "Dear God, you didn't get a _B_, did you?"

Her expression made Light laugh. "No," he assured her, playing along with the joke. "Nothing as terrible as that."

"Well, that's a relief," she sighed, placing a hand over her heart as if to calm it down. "I was worried there for a minute." When he continued to laugh lightly, she flashed him one of her usual bright grins before continuing, "So what's the matter then, peacock? It's not like you to be sitting around looking depressed when you could be preening your feathers."

Light's laughter died in his throat at her mocking words. He was so tired of this nonsense with her, especially now that her opinions seemed to matter to him. Lifting his head to look her in the eye, he stated dully, "My name is Light, Charlie. Not pretty boy, not peacock. Not jerk or bastard or asshole. Light. And why do you care anyway?" he accused, drawing his brows down into a frown, suddenly irritated. "You don't like me. You think I'm an idiot for supporting Kira. You think I'm conceited and pompous. If I'm feeling depressed about something, you should be thrilled, not acting like you'd actually want to help me feel better." Drained of his momentary burst of anger, he lowered his head again and finished, "Just go away and leave me alone. I don't feel like playing games right now."

For several long minutes, Charlie said nothing. She simply stood there and looked at him. Light looked at her sneakers, silently waiting for them to walk away. He knew it was only a matter of time before they did. After all, she didn't care a bit about him. She only tolerated him for Lily's and Elijah's sakes. She had said so herself, more than once. And that was why crushing on her was completely pointless, not that he was because he _wasn't_.

Out of nowhere, a hand closed around his wrist and pulled.

"W-what … what are you doing?" he cried as he stumbled to his feet.

Charlie's lips were set in a hard line, her eyes shining with some emotion that he couldn't read. "I'm getting you off that damn bench," she informed him. "Come on. We're going for a walk."

"But … !"

"Exercise is good for you when you're depressed," she continued as she turned and began dragging him away. "So come on, move those feet."

Reluctantly, Light allowed Charlie to pull him along, and eventually the two fell into step with each other as Charlie set a brisk but manageable pace. Light expected her to continue to badger him about his mood, but the campus paths turned to the surrounding town's sidewalks and still she said nothing. Finally, after ten minutes or so of waiting for an attack that did not come, Light let his defenses fall away and sank comfortably into his thoughts as they continued to move side by side, Ryuk floating along behind them.

When Charlie finally did speak nearly five minutes later, it took him completely by surprise.

"I don't dislike you."

His step faltered a little bit as he looked up at her, shocked. "What?"

"I don't dislike you," she repeated, not looking at him. "Not anymore. I mean, yeah, I did at first. I thought you were this complete prick and really shallow and fake, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why a guy as great as Elijah would have you as his best friend. But then 'Lij convinced me to do this truce thing, and I started to see that you weren't as bad as I had thought. In fact," she said with a little laugh, "you and I have quite a few things in common."

Stunned, Light just stared at her. "We do?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, finally shooting a glance his way with a small smile. "We're both insanely pig-headed for one, and we'll fight to the death for what we've decided is right. And for another thing," she continued, sobering, "we both act differently around the people we love than we do around normal people."

"Really?" Light lowered his head and watched his feet as they continued to walk forward. "You think so?"

"I do," Charlie insisted. She also lowered her gaze to the ground as she explained, "I know what Lily does to me, how protective I become of her, how submissive I am to her wants and needs. I can see the same thing with you and Elijah, and I saw it with you and Sayu. You really love them, the way I love Lily. We're both selfish people except when it comes to them. They're the only ones who can make us think of anyone other than ourselves."

Light bit the inside of his cheek and said nothing. She was right. He did love Elijah and Sayu, maybe not as devotedly as Charlie loved Lily, but enough that the comparison wasn't ridiculous. He was willing to give them things he would never consider giving anyone else. Things like his future and his dreams.

"So anyway," Charlie was saying, "I just wanted you to know that I don't hate you. I guess, in a way, I even maybe … sort of … like you." She laughed suddenly and commented, "Enough to pretend to be your girlfriend."

Light's face flared.

Thankfully, Charlie still had her eyes on the sidewalk and didn't notice. "So, you see," she continued, "I really do care if you're feeling down. I know I'm not the most sensitive person in the world, but I do care about my friends. And … I guess … you're my friend now, Light."

Light's heart was doing its absolute best to hammer its way out of his ribcage. Hearing her speak his name -- gently, kindly, without any trace of mischief or ridicule -- had sent his idiotic teenage body into a whirlwind of emotions and hormones. _Fine_, he wanted to scream at himself. _I'm crushing on her; now knock it off already!_ Unfortunately, his mouth was so dry that he couldn't have yelled at himself even if he tried.

Next to him, Charlie sighed a little. "I have to admit, though," she said, "that I'm still a little worried about what happened that day when we all went shopping with Sayu. About what I overheard." She turned her eyes to Light; he tensed automatically before he noticed that her gaze was not accusing. "'Lij is supposed to be an amnesiac, yet I could tell he was telling you about his childhood. And both of you called each other strange things, names that I didn't recognize."

"Charlie …"

But she interrupted him and pushed on. "At first I thought the two of you were running some kind of con together. You know, to fleece Professor McCormick or something. Now … well, now I just don't know what to think. You two are obviously not crooks, but you have some kind of secret between you. Something that involves Elijah because he's certainly not who he says he is. I know I'm not supposed to worry about it, that I promised to forget it, but I can't help it sometimes, you know? And the closer I get to the two of you, the more I care about you, the more afraid I get that --"

This time, Light interrupted her, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and taking her hands in his to force her to turn and look at him. "Charlie," he said evenly, "I promise you that it's nothing to worry about. You're right, there is a secret between Elijah and me, but we are the only two involved in it." A derisive snort rang out from the top of a lamppost, but Light ignored it. Holding her eyes firmly with his, he continued, "It doesn't affect anyone else, and even if someone else knew, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it. So please, just let it go. Please trust me."

Charlie's eyes examined him for a minute or two, searching his face for a reason to say no. But then, she smiled and nodded ever so slightly. "All right," she said. "I will. As long as you promise to take as good care of him as you can."

"I would have done that even without you asking me," he replied immediately. Another snort floated down from the lamppost and was summarily ignored.

"Then this time I really will let it go."

"Thank you." And at that moment, Light realized that he was holding Charlie's hands and gazing into her face from only a short distance away. He stepped back immediately, dropping her hands and turning to continue their walk. She fell into step beside him, unaware of his sudden attack of embarrassment.

They said nothing else for a good ten minutes, simply walked through the residential area near the college, up one road and down another. Eventually, they came to a small park and began to walk through it, leaving the smooth sidewalk for gravel paths and soft grass instead. All around them, the trees were in various states of autumn undress, some ablaze with color, some with nothing but bare branches. Their steps crunched as they shuffled through the thin layer of leaves that had fallen to cover the earth.

Somewhere in the middle of the park, under a brightly attired maple, Light finally broke the silence.

"Are you cold?" he asked. He had just caught her rubbing her arms and shivering slightly.

"Yeah," she admitted. "When I came out in this, I thought I was going to be running, not walking." Her hands slapped at the skin above her elbows again.

With barely a thought, Light unzipped his coat, removed it from his own arms, and draped it around Charlie's shoulders. Her head lifted in surprise as she felt the fabric brush against her skin.

"Are you sure?" she asked, indicating the coat. "Won't you get cold now?"

He shrugged. "I have long sleeves. I'll be fine."

"Oh, okay then. Thanks." She moved to start walking again, but this time he did not follow her. After only a few paces, she noticed and turned to him again, a questioning expression on her face.

Light didn't want to walk anymore. He had walked -- and thought -- enough. Now he wanted to talk and hopefully chase away some of the darkness that had gripped him for weeks. Before he did that, though, he wanted a token from Charlie. Some small gesture that would convince him that she meant what she said in regards to caring about him.

"If I talk about what's bothering me," he asked her, "will you do me a favor first?"

"What?" she asked back.

"Take out your hair."

Confused, Charlie lifted a hand to her ponytail. She frowned at him. "Why?"

_Because it reminds me of when I kissed you. Because when it's down, you look like a different woman, sweeter, more gentle. Because my fingers want to run through it and play with it. Because you never take it down and if you do, it'll make me feel like I'm somehow special._

What he said, however, was "Because I like it down. It's pretty."

Charlie stared at him for a long moment. Then, with her eyes still locked on his, she pulled on the hair elastic until it slipped off the end and lowered her arm to her side.

Light smiled and shut his eyes to gather his resolve. When he opened his eyes again, he said, "There's something that I've been working on for a long time, a goal I want to reach. I thought I was getting there, that I was steadily making progress, but now it looks like I'm not. In fact, it looks like all my work has been for nothing. I can't reach my goal, not like this, and I should probably just … just …" He shut his eyes again and clenched his teeth. It was hard to admit even in this vague, general form. "I should probably just … give it up completely."

Charlie's eyes were patient and non-judgmental. "I see," she said.

"And the thing is," Light continued, suddenly feeling the words flooding out without restraint, "that I really don't want to give it up, not because I think I can actually achieve it, but because I've never given up on anything before. You're right, you know. I've never gotten anything lower than an A on anything. I've always been first in everything I do. To think that I couldn't do this, that I … that I _failed_ … it's just … I just …"

"You just don't want to admit to yourself that you're not perfect," Charlie finished for him.

"Exactly," he breathed in a rush of air. And that was the root of the problem, wasn't it? Because while logically he knew he should give up the Death Note and choose the future that had the most benefits and the highest success rate, emotionally, he could not bring himself to give in to failure. Giving up the Death Note was admitting that he had been wrong. No matter how much he knew in his mind that it was true, his heart simply refused to accept it.

"Nobody's perfect, Light," Charlie said to him with a little smile.

"No, you don't understand," he argued. "I am. I've always been perfect. The perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect athlete." He held out his hands to her in a gesture of appeal and asked, "If I'm not perfect, then who am I?"

A few quick steps, and Charlie had grasped those hands in her own. "Light," she said, looking up into his face, "it's okay to not be perfect."

"No," he started, "I told you --"

"_Light_," she interrupted strongly, her hands gripping his so tightly that they stung a little. "It's _okay_ to not be perfect. You're still you. You're still worthwhile. You're still a person that other people love and hold dear. Whether you give up this goal of yours or keep going for it is your choice, but whichever you choose, it's only a failure if you let it be. You tried your best, right?"

"I did," he replied, choking down a wave of despair. "I tried really hard. I gave it everything I had."

"Then that's all you can do," she told him gently. "No one could ask for any more."

"But if my best wasn't enough …"

"It still doesn't mean you're a failure," she insisted, abandoning his hands to take him by the shoulders. "I know it's cliché and sounds stupid, but the only people who are failures are the ones who don't try. It's true, it really is, okay?" When he didn't answer, she shook him slightly. "Okay?"

"Okay," he relented, smiling just a bit at her persistence.

"Now say it," she ordered with a grin. "Say 'I am not a failure.'"

"Charlie …"

"Say it!"

Light laughed lightly and shook his head at her. "I am not a failure," he stated obediently.

"Good," she smiled, and right then, he saw it again: that fond, slightly vulnerable look that he had seen right before she had kissed him the second time. It tugged at something in the center of his chest, hard. Their eyes had linked, unable to look away, and for the briefest of seconds, he felt as if their two hearts were reaching out towards each other, lightly brushing together like two sets of questioning fingertips. It was a beautiful feeling -- soft, intimate, loving.

A sudden gust of wind ruined the moment by whipping up her long hair and throwing it into her face. Laughing a little, Charlie removed her hands from Light's shoulders to pull the strands away from her eyes. "See?" she said. "This is why I always put it up. So I don't have to deal with this."

"I still think it's pretty that way," he teased lightly, feeling that wonderful momentary connection rapidly slipping away.

"Which is why I call you a peacock," she returned with a grin. "You care more about looks than about practicality."

"I guess," he admitted. His fingers itched to help her tame her hair, but he kept his hands by his side. Instead, he let his eyes roam over the blonde strands as they lay against the collar of his coat which she wore. Would the warmth of her body linger in the fabric of the lining? Would he be able to feel it the next time he put it on? Would he ever be able to wear that coat again without thinking of the way her hair draped over the shoulders like a miniature golden waterfall?

"Light?" she said, her gentle voice sending a jolt through him and waking him from his thoughts. "You're spacing out on me."

"Sorry," he replied automatically. "I was just thinking."

"What about?" she prompted innocently.

Light swallowed and considered what he should say. He liked her, that much was obvious to him now. What, if anything, did she feel for him? They had had a connection; he had felt it. How deeply did it run? Carefully, he answered her question by saying, "I was thinking … you and I … we'd never make it together, would we?"

Charlie took a step back and gazed at him with wide, surprised eyes. "You mean like as a couple?" When he nodded, she laughed and said, "No freaking way! We'd kill each other within a week."

A wave of sadness hit Light, but he fought it, forcing a small grin. "Probably less than that," he pretended to joke. "Besides, I'm going back to Japan at the end of the year."

"No way I'd do a long distance relationship," Charlie stated.

"My parents wouldn't be happy with me dating an American girl anyway. I'm supposed to end up with an obedient girl who'll make the perfect wife. Stay at home, support me, and raise the kids."

"Ha, I'd never give up my future for a man. And I'm not about to pretend to be someone I'm not just to gain the approval of others."

"Exactly."

"Right."

"We'd never work."

"Never."

Light bit his tongue, shut his mouth, and just gazed at Charlie as she stood a couple of steps away from him and gazed back. What a cruel joke his life had turned into. He had been born with devastatingly good looks, smooth charm, and breathtaking intelligence. Add to that his family position, and he could have had any girl he wanted back home. Any girl at all with just a glance and a few words. But he didn't want any girl. He wanted this one. This one with her fiery spirit and her will of iron. This one with her strong, wiry body, her sparkling eyes, and her soft hair. This one with her wise-ass mouth and her temper and her raucous laughter. This one who didn't want him.

But as Light internally bemoaned his ironic fate, he slowly became aware of the fact that Charlie was still staring at him. That their eyes had met and held, creating a bridge between them that linked them together merely by their gazes. And he finally realized that, during their previous banter, she had not once declared that she didn't like him, that she didn't want to go out with him. She had only insisted that it wouldn't work between them, just as he had. It would have been so easy for her to cry out in horror that she would never even dream of dating him, but she hadn't done it. And she was still gazing at him with those bright blue eyes, her hands clutching her elbows, fingering the material of his coat. Light could feel the connection reforming between them, could feel their breathing evening out together, could feel their hearts beginning to beat in sync with each other.

"Charlie …" he murmured, unable to stop himself.

At the sound of his voice, Charlie blinked once. Then, she dropped her hands sharply to her sides and whispered, "Fuck it."

And then she was kissing him. In the space of a second, she had crossed the short distance to him, grabbed his face in her hands, and sealed their lips together. Light reacted instantly, pulling her closer with his arms and burying one hand in her hair. He kissed her with a desperation he had never thought he possessed. She drank him in just as hungrily, her fingertips digging into his back and threading through his hair.

As preoccupied as he was, he never heard the unfolding of unearthly wings and the sounds of a disgruntled Shinigami taking to the sky and flying away.

It was much later that evening when Light, still a bit dizzy from being thoroughly kissed by his new girlfriend, knocked on the McCormicks' front door. Julie let him in and informed him that Elijah was in his room. As he climbed the stairs, he couldn't help but wonder at how different he felt from just that morning. Gone was the darkness and the self-doubt. He felt like himself again, optimistic and confident. When he thought of what he was about to do, he felt no guilt or shame. His feet continued to move forward, step by step without hesitation. His final worries had faded with Charlie's words of acceptance, and, as he reached out to take the doorknob to Elijah's room and turn it, he knew that they would not return.

His best friend lifted his head when Light opened the door, and he closed the book of puzzles that lay on his desk. Turning his chair slightly to face the door, he put down his pencil and smiled his normal welcoming smile.

"Hello, Light. I didn't know you were coming over."

Light did not smile back. Instead, he solemnly stepped inside, shut the door behind him, and leaned back on it as if to prevent it from opening again. Elijah seemed to sense the irregular atmosphere for he straightened slightly and lifted an eyebrow in question.

"Eraisho-san," Light said, allowing his Japanese accent to fully take over the blond's name. "I need to speak with you."

Elijah's eyebrow shot higher in surprise, but a moment later, he had risen to his feet, hands deep in pockets and unblinking eyes gazing up from beneath his bangs. His mood had changed instantly to match Light's, and the space between them resonated with the weight of a future about to be born.

"Douzo, Raito-kun," the elder man murmured with a small nod of his head.

Light slowly drew a breath in and then let it out again. The importance of the moment hung heavy on him, but he was in no danger of buckling. Finally he knew in his heart what he wanted to do. There would be no more running, no more hoping for salvation from somewhere else. The moment of truth was now.

"Promise me," he ordered, "that you will do as you said and help me either keep the title of L or gain one that is equal to it."

Elijah -- his greatest enemy and his dearest friend, the one who supported him, challenged him, and dared as no one else did to try to push him around, the only man in existence for whom Light would consider giving up his life -- Elijah replied at once, without a shred of hesitation.

"I promise," he said.

"Promise me that you will do everything in your power to help me make this world a better place for as many people as possible. Not just the ones that were victimized by interesting or challenging criminals. Everyone."

A little smile flittered over Elijah's face at this reference to the once high-and-mighty L. "I promise."

"And promise me," Light added with a small smile of his own, "that once this is over and dealt with, you'll ask Lily out and be a proper boyfriend to her."

To Light's immense satisfaction, Elijah's eyes shot wide and he jumped backwards. "What?" the startled blond demanded. "What does that have to do with -- ?"

Light's laughter cut him off. The frightened and cornered expression on his best friend's face was priceless. Completely worth the temporary destruction of the mood. "I'm just kidding," he assured him with a wave of his hands. "Although, really, you should stop denying it and just accept that you like her."

His friend's customary slouch worsened considerably, and he seemed to collapse into himself. "Just because she is my favorite female other than my mother does not mean I wish to become romantically involved with her," Elijah protested with a definite pout.

"All right, I get it," Light conceded teasingly. Then, his smile disappeared as he continued, "But seriously, 'Lij, if you can promise me those things, all I have to do is figure out where the hell Ryuk went and settle the debt I owe him. Once that's done, I'm ready to make my decision."

Light had expected Elijah to smile at that announcement, or at least to express excitement and interest in the younger man's willingness to finally choose the direction their futures would take. Instead, to Light's surprise, Elijah's eyes slid sideways and his head dipped. His body turned slightly away and his bowed shoulders curved even more. Then, in a low, almost hesitant voice, the blond stated, "The debt that you owe to the Shinigami, it's been taken care of."

For a moment, Light didn't understand what he meant. But then he staggered slightly on his feet as all the pieces came together in a rush. How Ryuk's night-time flights had become longer and more frequent, how the Shinigami had stopped bothering Light about using the Death Note more, and the way he had just up and left this afternoon and had yet to return. It all made sense now. The god's attachment to Light had already been severed without Light's knowledge. That connection had broken; there was no more debt. Ryuk still spent a great deal of time with him, but it was no longer required. In addition, the god had been preparing for his eventual exit from this world by sneaking off and enjoying himself whenever possible, leaving behind the mortal who was no longer his.

But with that realization came another, and brown eyes narrowed in rapidly growing anger as he stared at the man before him. "It's Misa, isn't it?" he accused hotly. "You went behind my back and offered up Misa in my place!"

Elijah flinched, answering Light's question even before he spoke. "I did," he admitted, still refusing to make eye contact. "I knew you wouldn't do it, so I did it for you."

"Damn you!" Light roared as his fury flared. He took several steps towards the other man, fist half-raised as if to strike. "You heartless, conniving bastard! I told you I didn't want to get her involved!"

"So who would you involve instead?" Elijah cried, turning to face Light with an anger as sudden and fierce as his own. "Some nameless, faceless criminal? It won't work. Ryuk doesn't want just any life; he wants yours. Do you really think he'd trade you for anyone less than someone we care about? Are you willing to offer up your family? Mine? Our friends? You have to sacrifice someone if you want to save yourself, so tell me, Light, who is it going to be?"

Surprised, Light took a half-step back. Elijah's face seemed almost anguished. Definitely upset and certainly not heartless. "Why does anyone have to be sacrificed?" he appealed, substantially subdued.

"Because I can't think of another way that doesn't involve tricking Ryuk somehow," his best friend answered. "And I think we can both accurately predict how well that endeavor would succeed." When Light only hung his head in response, Elijah continued, "Misa is the best choice for this. Not only has she already lived beyond her allotted time as I said before, but she would willingly die for you if you asked. Perhaps," he suggested in a suddenly soft voice, "you would feel better if you asked."

"I can't ask," Light replied immediately, his head and gaze still lowered. "I wiped her memory _and_ I broke up with her. I can't just call her up and ask her to die for me."

"You could always get back together with her. At least until the end."

Light's entire body suddenly felt several degrees warmer. "No," he mumbled, now not making eye contact out of embarrassment rather than out of shame. "I can't do that either. I'm … well … I'm not … single … anymore."

Out of his peripheral vision, Light could see Elijah's hand raising to his face. The blond was undoubtedly pressing his thumb to his lips in his characteristic smirk. "Really?" he asked, extreme amusement evident in just a single word.

"Shut up!" Light ordered, rapidly leaving embarrassment behind and moving on to mortification. He snapped his head up, glaring hotly at the other young man. "At least I finally admitted it to myself," he said in his own defense. "You've been attracted to Lily since you met her and have yet to do anything other than flirt with her."

Elijah's pale face flushed, much to Light's satisfaction. "Well," he replied, coughing lightly to hide his discomfort, "my point is that, if someone must die in exchange for your continued existence, Misa Amane is the most logical choice. I can think of no better option."

Light sighed and turned away, all previous emotions turning once again to shame. "I'm going to feel guilty about this for the rest of my life," he murmured.

"No, you're not," Elijah responded in a similarly quiet tone. "You'll forget. I'm the only one who will have to live with the decisions made in this moment." Taken aback by this statement, Light turned to his friend in concern, but Elijah brushed away his unease with a wave and a small smile. "It doesn't matter," the blond stated with finality. "It is already done. The deal has been made. All that remains, Light, is for you to make your choice and tell the rest of us what our future will be."

Light swallowed. This was it then. His choice. It had all begun with a simple black notebook that had fallen from the sky. Back then, he had had such hopes, such ideals, such beautiful, perfect dreams. He had believed in himself beyond anything else and shut his eyes against anything that would compromise that belief. Now, his eyes had opened. He still had his hopes and his dreams, but he had learned to temper them to make room for the grays in life, the in-betweens, the 'what if's and the 'could be's. He could still see a triumphant future for himself, but he was no longer the only one who stood there in that blazing spotlight of success. Now, he stood next to Elijah, proudly. Elijah and Mikami and Charlie. And Ethan and Mark and Annie and Lily and Sayu and his mother and father and everyone else in his life who made his past, his present, and his future all worthwhile.

Brown eyes locked with blue across a silent room and held fast. "All right," Light Yagami said clearly, his voice strong and resolute. "I'll do it. I'll save you, Elijah. I'll give up the Death Note." He paused, and then, still holding his best friend's eyes firmly with his own, he smiled.

"I choose you."

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Almost finished. Just a few more chapters to go. Hope you enjoy this one! Just to warn you, it's very fluffy. :)

* * *

**Chapter 24**

Two days after Christmas, Elijah sat at his desk, hands gripping his calves and chin resting in his knees, and stared at the short email in his inbox.

_Elijah --_

_All went as planned. Had some trouble finding the right spot, but all is well now. See you in a couple of weeks._

_-- Light_

_P.S. Have you asked Lily out yet?_

Shaking his head at the postscript, Elijah relaxed further into the chair and let his gaze slip out of focus. Light had the final Death Note in his possession. That was what the message meant. He had found an appropriate opportunity and replaced it with a fake notebook that the two of them had made ahead of time. Light's comment about having trouble referred to the secret compartment hidden in one of the walls of L's old room in headquarters. In it, he had kept extra keys to all of the important safes and locked rooms in the building. The compartment itself had been made to appear flush to the wall and opened via a keypad, also extremely well-hidden. When Elijah had told Light about it, the brunet had accused him of being a "sneaky, paranoid bastard," an epithet that Elijah had no intention of refuting.

Apparently, Light had had difficulty finding the keypad but had eventually succeeded and used the key within to switch out the real notebook with the fake one. Now all the two men needed to do was wait for winter break to end.

Sighing slightly from the boredom that always assaulted him whenever Light was gone, Elijah closed down his email and put his computer into sleep mode. Then, he rose from his seat and shuffled towards the front wall, intending to engage in his usual staring out the window. Before he got there, however, something else grabbed and held his attention.

Early in November, Lily had announced that she had finally made copies of the paintings she had done of Elijah and Light. Their friends all asked for and received the prints, but when the two models had asked for copies, Lily had refused with a small smile and told them to wait. When Christmas had approached, she had presented them both with larger prints in interlocking frames. Elijah had been so impressed and honored that he had actually stammered out his gratitude, for which Light had teased him mercilessly afterward.

The pictures that now hung on his wall were what had distracted him on his way to the window, and he took a moment to gaze at them. They really were quite well done, realistic and with a good attention to detail. The emotions portrayed were excellent, the loneliness that both men felt almost palpable. Those feelings had not been created through observation either; he knew for a fact that neither he nor Light had had expressions like those on their faces when they had modeled for her. Lily had produced them on her own. To create such a vivid emotion, Elijah surmised, the artist probably must have intimate knowledge of it beforehand on a personal level. That thought made him unexpectedly flinch. He didn't like the thought of Lily being lonely.

Standing there staring at his own face, Elijah thought again of Light's postscript. His best friend had been hounding him ever since October to ask Lily to be his girlfriend, but the older man continued to refuse. He wasn't even sure why anymore. At first, his natural suspicion had argued that Light could easily change his mind and take back his decision to give up the Death Note, but it had been over two months now and Light had not once wavered. That left Elijah with no real arguments other than the fact that he didn't love her, and even that reasoning felt empty and impotent. Lily wanted so little from him, and she was so patient. As long as he didn't lead her on and profess a love he didn't feel, he should have had no objections to being her boyfriend in name and simply spending a little more time with her.

Which left the question of why he still hadn't picked up the phone to call her.

"Something troubling you, sweetheart?"

Surprised by his mother's voice, Elijah turned to find her standing by his dresser with an armful of clean clothes. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard her come in.

"No," he replied to her question, his eyes shying away from her concerned gaze. "I'm fine."

"I see," she said quietly, her tone betraying her doubt. "All right then." Quickly, she finished putting away his laundry. When she had finished, instead of leaving the room she came to stand beside him, also looking at the paintings on the wall.

"She's quite talented," Julie commented after a moment of mildly tense silence.

"Yes," Elijah replied simply.

"You should call her," his mother continued. "She's probably just as bored as you are with everyone home for winter break. You two should get together and do something."

"No, that isn't necessary."

To Elijah's surprise, his mother sighed mightily at his response and placed her hands on her hips. "Did I just hear you right?" she demanded, her voice suddenly stern. "Did you just say it wasn't _necessary_?" He just blinked at her, and after a moment, she sighed again and grabbed him by the wrist. "Come here," she ordered, dragging him towards his bed. "You and I need to have a serious mother-son talk."

Somehow, Elijah knew exactly what was coming, and he struggled against her surprisingly strong grip. "Mother!" he protested. "I assure you that I do not need this talk. I am fully aware of where babies come from." He knew he could break her hold if he tried hard enough, but he was worried about hurting her in the process.

"Good," Julie smirked, although whether it was at his comment or his fear he didn't know. "Then I can skip that part and just get to the good stuff. Now sit!" She pushed him onto the bed where he fell in a rather undignified heap and then settled herself next to him while he attempted to recover.

"So, my dear son, let's talk about girls, shall we?"

"_Mother …_"

"Granted, it's been a long time since I've dated and times have certainly changed since then, but fundamentally, a girl is a girl. So if you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them for you."

Elijah just groaned and attempted to hide by burying his face in his knees.

"Now, now, no need to be embarrassed," his mother laughed, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. "It's perfectly natural for a young man to have certain thoughts regarding a young lady."

"But I don't!" Elijah insisted, raising his head to defend himself against the untrue accusation. "I have no such thoughts or feelings, and I do not understand why everyone assumes that I do." When Julie gave him a questioning look, he elaborated, "I like Lily and I like to spend time with her, but I have no desire to become physically intimate with her. I've seen how Light and Charlie behave when they think I'm not paying attention. It's as if they want to suck each other's faces off." He grimaced at the unpleasant memory while his mother chuckled. Solemnly, he declared, "I have no such designs on Lily's face."

"I see," Julie said with a smile. Gently, she reached out and pushed his bangs out of his eyes. When she spoke again, her tone had lost its levity. "But you did admit that you like being with her."

"Yes, but I don't see why --"

"Elijah, sweetheart," she interrupted him, letting her hand slip down to stroke his cheek. "The reason why your friends and I are encouraging the two of you to get together is because we can see what you can't. We can see your faces and the way you act when you're around each other. You have a special smile just for her. Did you know that?" When Elijah stared at her, wide-eyed, she laughed a little and nodded. "It's true. You speak to her differently as well. Your tone is always more gentle than with the others, more intimate. And while I'm perfectly aware that Light and Charlie do everything they can to make sure you two always end up sitting next to each other whenever possible, no one forces you to sit so close together or to look at her as often as you do or to offer her your shoulder when she's tired. You do those things on your own."

Elijah's face was beginning to burn so he hid it once more in his knees. To be honest, he wasn't sure why his mother's words embarrassed him. The things she had mentioned, they were just indicators of how strong his friendship was with Lily, right? They didn't automatically translate into attraction. They couldn't, because no matter what anyone said to him, he still only felt this kind of soft warmth when he thought of Lily. No desire of any kind.

His mother was stroking his hair now, her fingers sliding warmly along his scalp. "I should apologize to you, though," she said. "I shouldn't have teased you. I've grown so accustomed to how you are now that I forgot how you were when you first came to live here. It took you months to see this place as your home and to accept that I truly did love you. Just because you've learned how to love me and your father doesn't mean I should expect you to know and understand all love."

Shifting his face slightly to one side so that his voice wouldn't be muffled, Elijah stated, "I don't love Lily."

Julie didn't even pause. "Are you sure?" she asked gently. "Love is a complex thing, and it's unique to each of us. It can't be boiled down to something as simple as affection or attraction. And really, Elijah," she added with a smile, "where is it written that you have to be in love with someone to date them? Dating is supposed to be the way to try out other people, to see whether you love them or not. All you need to know is that you like Lily, that you like spending time with her. That should be enough."

Elijah's entire body tensed. There it was, the argument for which he had no rebuttal. He knew perfectly well that his mother was right. Even he knew that dating did not equal marriage, and certainly Lily had no such expectations. Yet for some reason, the thought of inviting her over with the intent to ask her out immobilized him. Despairingly, he realized he would in no way be able to describe the feeling to his mother, nor would he be able to justify the sudden cold that had gripped his stomach.

Julie, however, once again proved to him how powerful a mother's understanding could be. "Unless," she said quietly, continuing her previous line of thought, "you're afraid of falling in love. Is that it, sweetheart?"

All of the tension in his body left in a rush, leaving him feeling empty and shaken. Afraid? Was he afraid? Was that the problem? Fear?

"I … I don't know …"

"If you are, it's a perfectly natural feeling," his mother assured him. "No one wants to get hurt, and falling in love is a definite risk. However, I feel that it's a risk worth taking." Her fingers fell away from his head, and in the next moment she had wrapped her arms around him as best she could with him in his curled-up position. "You know, darling," she murmured against the top of his head, "I've said this before, but I'll go ahead and remind you anyway: you're not alone. Not ever. You have wonderful friends who care for you, and you have Rich and me. Whatever happens to you, if you need us to support you or comfort you, we'll be here. So don't ever be afraid of taking risks, all right? You've got us as your safety net. If you need us to catch you, we will."

Several long, silent heartbeats passed as Elijah simply sat there, curled in Julie's half-embrace, and thought about what she had said. Then, he slowly lifted his head and shifted his body so that she could hold him properly. "I love you, Mom," he told the soft skin at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

"I love you, too, sweetheart," she replied gently.

They said nothing else, but when she eventually left, she gave him a smile which he returned. And as she disappeared down the hall to continue on with the laundry, he walked over to his phone and picked it up to dial a number he knew by heart.

Lily was very surprised and quite happy to hear from him. She admitted that, yes, she was rather bored and a little lonely without their friends around and gladly accepted his invitation to come over and watch a movie or two. When she arrived, he led her to his parents' collection of classic movies and told her to pick one out while he raided the kitchen for cookies. A little less than ten minutes later, they settled themselves on the couch with a plate of cookies and a pair of mugs of tea on the coffee table and an Audrey Hepburn/Peter O'Toole film on the television.

Elijah didn't watch the movie. He had seen it and thoroughly deconstructed its many implausibilities already. Instead, he watched the woman beside him out of the corner of his eye. For the majority of the film, she simply sat and paid attention to the story unfolding on the screen. However, he noticed that he liked the way she laughed quietly at the jokes and the way her forehead creased into small lines when she was trying to figure out in which direction the plot was headed. And when she remarked at how beautiful Hepburn was and he easily responded with, "Yes, but she certainly does not have the monopoly on female beauty," he definitely liked the way Lily's cheeks pinked ever so slightly and the way her eyes flitted away from his. Yes, he liked that very much.

Yet, in spite of the enjoyment he felt from being with her, Elijah still found himself balking at the prospect of asking her to be his girlfriend. Perhaps he really was afraid. Although he wasn't quite sure of what. Not of rejection -- there was a ninety-three point six percent certainty that she would accept if asked. The next most logical possibility was the fear of being hurt should their relationship fail. That, however, didn't seem very likely either. Lily was too sweet and too patient to break his heart. If anything, it would be the other way around; he would be the one to break hers.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, a chill shot through him, and Elijah knew he had found his answer. He _was_ afraid, but not of being hurt himself. He was afraid of hurting Lily. Because he knew in his heart that he would never be a "normal" boyfriend, not to her or to anyone else. These feelings of contentment could very easily be the extent of what he felt for her no matter how long they stayed together. After all, no matter how much living with Rich and Julie and having a normal life was changing him, he was still fundamentally the same person, and some things stayed the same regardless.

Unfortunately, instead of leading to an answer, this recent revelation simply brought more problems. If his primary fear was of hurting Lily, his path should be the one that brought her the least pain. However, he knew that he was hurting her now by _not_ dating her. So which was worse: the definite pain of staying separated or the probable pain of getting together only to have her disappointed by his inadequacies? He honestly did not know.

Emotions were far more difficult than murder cases.

On the screen, Hepburn and O'Toole were driving away from the camera, off to celebrate their honeymoon together. Knowing that nothing but credits remained, Elijah picked up the remote from a side table and turned the television off. Lily looked at him expectantly, the little smile on her face stating how she had enjoyed the film. A few silent minutes passed in which he did not meet her eyes. Instead, he dangled the remote between his fingers and watched as it swung slightly in the air.

That final question to himself still haunted him, and he had no quick way of finding out the answer on his own. The last bits of detective that lingered in him were urging him to go ahead and try to get the answer from the one who was most likely to know: Lily herself. When he considered the options, a direct confrontation seemed most efficient. If Light were here, he would probably scold Elijah for having such a thought, undoubtedly calling it rude and tactless. The younger man would certainly advocate a more indirect approach or perhaps a solution that did not involve Lily at all. However, Light was not here, and that left Elijah on his own to do as he wished.

Dropping the remote unceremoniously back onto the side table, Elijah turned his head and gazed into Lily's dark eyes. Her smile had faded a little in the silence, but it returned anew at his attention. "Did you enjoy the movie?" he asked, deciding to at least start with the question she had been expecting.

"Yes."

"Good." He shifted his body so that more of it faced her and continued, "Lily, I wish to talk to you and not about what we just watched."

Her brow wrinkled slightly in confusion, but she continued to smile. "A-all right," she replied.

"Do you remember," he asked, jumping right to the heart of the matter in true L-fashion, "last summer when we visited the amusement park and I asked you if you were holding out hope of me asking you to become my girlfriend?"

Lily's cheeks pinked slightly again, but she held his gaze. "Yes."

"Do you still have that hope?"

"I do."

"I told you this at the time, but I believe there is no harm in repeating it: if I were to become your boyfriend, I would not behave in the way that most consider to be normal. Having watched Light behave around Charlie for the past two months has only solidified this opinion of myself. I enjoy being with you and I would have no objection to holding your hand or placing my arm around you. However, I have no desire to attack your face in the way our respective best friends do to each other, and as you know, I am not a social person and would therefore not enjoy visiting various entertainment venues or eateries simply for the purpose of having dates." He held her gaze firmly and searched it carefully as he asked, "Even knowing these limitations on my capacity as a boyfriend, are you still interested in having me in that role?"

To his shock, Lily just smiled even more. "I am," she said immediately. "I don't care about those things because you're right, they aren't you. And I like you, Elijah. I like you and I like being with you. That's all I care about."

Elijah just stared at her. He had planned to ask next how she would feel should their relationship fail, but the questions died on his lips as the echo of her words rang in his mind. The shock he felt was only made worse by the realization that she had said almost the same thing last summer. How could he possibly have forgotten something that important? The answer to his questions, the cure to all his fears, had been right there in front of him the entire time.

Elijah felt stupid. Very stupid. It made his teeth clench and his toes curl. He was not accustomed to feeling like this, and he was even less accustomed to admitting it to himself when he did. But in this case, he wanted to recognize his failures. He had underestimated Lily and paid her a grave insult in the process. Just because she was quiet and simplistic did not mean she was naïve and unintelligent. She didn't talk much or participate in many activities because she was _observant_. Those dark eyes saw everything and drew it all in so that her quick mind could absorb it all. One only had to look at the pictures that her fingers created to know that nothing escaped her attention, not even the slightest detail.

Of course she would know what dating Elijah would entail, and even so, she wanted to proceed. The warmth that usually rested in his chest when he was with her suddenly grew until it seemed to reach even to the tips of his fingers and toes, and as it spread, it melted the cold knot of anxiety that had kept him from taking the next step forward, clearing the obstacle completely away.

After taking a slow breath, Elijah spoke, feeling each word as it formed on his tongue. "If that is the case, I have no more objections to entering into a romantic relationship with you. Do you find that agreeable?"

Her breath hitched slightly, but that was the only indication of her surprise. "I do," she said.

"Then consider it done."

Lily smiled and lowered her eyes. "Thank you, Elijah."

"I see no reason to express gratitude, but you are welcome all the same," he replied.

They sat together in silence for a few minutes, neither one moving or speaking. But then, a slight shimmer caught Elijah's eye and he observed, "You're crying." He cocked his head at her, wondering if he should be concerned. "I hope those are tears of happiness."

"They are," she assured him with a smile, brushing a few of the wet drops away from her cheeks.

"Good, because the alternative would not have been acceptable."

Lily laughed a little at his comment, and the sound of her laughter brought a smile to his own lips. The warmth in his body was making him feel pleasantly light-headed. On a whim, he reached out and captured a stray tear before it could escape her eyelashes. Bringing his hand before his face, he gazed at the moisture that sat on the pad of his index finger for a moment. That bit of wetness there was a tear of happiness from his girlfriend. He had a girlfriend now. He had a mother, a father, a best friend, and a girlfriend. Any minute now, the sky was going to start raining chocolate bon-bons.

"Elijah?" Lily asked as a silly grin stretched across his face.

He shook his head and replied, "It's nothing." Wiping the tear off on his jeans, he gazed at her for a moment. One of those strange physical cravings was creeping up on him again. Over the last several months, he had become less and less likely to fight against them, and, considering the new state of their relationship, he saw no reason to increase his resistance now.

He did, however, still feel compelled to ask. "Would it be all right if I placed my arms around you?"

Lily blinked in obvious surprise, but then her face broke out into a beautiful and bright smile. "Of course," she replied.

After a moment of consideration and calculation, Elijah flattened out his bent legs so that his knees pointed towards Lily and requested that she turn seventeen degrees to the left. She ended up turning eighteen degrees, but he decided not to correct her. Instead, he hesitatingly slipped one arm around her shoulders and let the other one fall to rest half in his own lap, half in hers. In response, Lily leaned into his chest and placed her hands gently on his knees. Her head fit snugly against his neck and underneath his chin.

Sitting there in silence with Lily's warm body against him, Elijah felt a gentle contentment slipping into his mind and sliding soothingly along his limbs. His eyes fell closed of their own accord, and it almost felt as if his pulse had slowed. Every inch of his body felt suddenly and strangely at peace, simply by cradling this woman against himself. It was similar to the serenity he felt when he held his mother, but for some reason the feelings were stronger and ran deeper this time. He somehow knew that he would be craving this sensation, this peace, beginning from the moment he let her go.

Lily twisted in his arms slightly when she felt him laughing. "What is it?" she asked, looking up at him as best she could.

"It's nothing," he told her, easing her back into her former position with subtle pushes. "I was merely contemplating the wisdom of my esteemed mother. I think I have finally come to accept that, should there be an issue under debate, her opinion on the matter will inevitably be the correct one."

"Mothers do have a habit of being right most of the time," she agreed with him. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she asked, "What was she right about?"

Instead of answering, Elijah lifted his hand and took Lily's chin between his thumb and index finger. Gently, he guided her head off of his shoulder and tipped her face up to look at him. For a moment, he watched the emotions tumble in those dark eyes; then he kissed her softly on the forehead before guiding her back down to her previous position.

When her shoulders began to shake beneath his arm and he felt a bit of dampness at his collar, he deduced that she had begun to cry again, this time in earnest. Not knowing what else to do, he simply tightened his grip around her and laid his cheek against the top of her head. He continued to hold her like that long after the tears had stopped. He had to admit he rather liked being with her like this, and she obviously had no objections to it either. If this shared closeness was all that being a boyfriend entailed, then he knew he could easily get used to it. And maybe, perhaps, in time, he could learn to be just a little bit more. Not to the extent of face-sucking, but something. If Lily were the one for whom he tried it, he thought he just might be able.

Perhaps this whole boyfriend thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *


	25. Chapter 25

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

A/N: Here you are, the final chapter of "Risks and Rewards". Afterwards, please continue on to the short epilogue and my final comments.

* * *

**Chapter 25**

To all things there is a beginning and an end. Someone said that once, and as annoying a statement as it was, it was true. This beginning had occurred on a normal school day when he was young and disillusioned and bored. It had begun with a mild curiosity that had quickly morphed to revulsion and fear. Those emotions, however, had almost immediately stepped aside to make room for the excitement, the thrill of power, and the lust for more. His madness had well and truly begun then, and it had carried him upon its wildly raging back for years.

Yet his insanity had been destined to end from the moment it had begun. Such was the way of all things: a beginning and an end. Had he continued on as a passenger of the madness, Death would have eventually ended his ride, either at the end of a long and successful life or far before his time in the seat of an electric chair. Either way, there would have been no new beginnings after the end of this one; his life would have ended at the same time. It would have been his very last beginning.

Would have been. Those were the important words. Because he had already dismounted the beast that had been bearing him to his doom, and now he was ready to shoot it dead with his own hands. He was ready in mind, body, and spirit to kill the madness and walk away.

He had everything prepared. He had both remaining Death Notes. He had the little plastic lighter he had bought months ago and a newly purchased container in which the fire could safely burn. He had the window of his dormroom open even though it was January. He had Elijah in the room with him in case anything went wrong. He had a distinct lack of Shinigami as Ryuk had decided to stay in Japan and follow Misa around for a while. Nothing he needed was absent.

It was time. Time to end one thing and to begin something new.

"Well, Kira," Elijah murmured from his place on the bed, "do you have any last words?"

Light smirked at his best friend, cocky to the very end and proud of it. "No," he replied. "Should I?"

Elijah laughed a little. "I suppose not," he admitted. "Besides, you and I both know that Kira has been dead for many months. This …" He motioned to the notebooks in Light's lap. "This is merely his funeral."

"Kira's funeral," Light added, leveling a meaningful gaze on the man opposite him, "and your birth."

The other smiled. "I suppose."

That smile. How many times over the past year and a half had he seen that same exact smile being directed at him? Light didn't know, but he suspected that, come this same time tomorrow, he would no longer be able to remember even half of them. Too many of their conversations, especially the private ones, had been wrapped up in the truth that he was Kira and Elijah was L. All of those memories would soon be gone, and all Light would have of them would be faint echoes of remembrance, impossibly blurred and indistinct. It hurt to know that, to know that half of their friendship was about to be obliterated in the span of a few seconds.

_And yet I will not waver_, he told himself as he lifted the lighter from off of his desk. _Our friendship is strong, unshakable. It will bear this blow with little effort. And we will make new memories together to replace the ones I will have lost._

A small clicking noise, and Misa's Death Note was burning. Light lifted the little black book by one corner and watched it for a while, just like he had done with Rem's. The flickering flames were oddly mesmerizing as they licked up the sides of the notebook and began snaking across the front and back. Before the grasping red tendrils could reach his fingers, Light dropped the book into the container on the floor and watched it until it was ash. One part of his mind idly thought about the Shinigami who had owned it originally and wondered in a detached way whether his remains in any way resembled the crumbled dust that his notebook had become.

To _all_ things a beginning and an end.

"One left," Elijah said softly once the first fire had burned itself out.

"Yeah," Light agreed in a similar tone. Unconsciously, his hand tightened around the black book in his lap.

"Are you scared?" the older man questioned after a short pause.

The younger snapped his head up to glare at his best friend. Perhaps his stomach was churning abnormally as if in anxiety, and perhaps he was hesitating a little bit before willingly wiping his mind clear of years worth of memories. But that didn't mean he was _scared_, and even if he was, he'd be _damned_ before he'd admit to it.

Elijah responded to Light's angry gaze with an apologetic smile. "Well," he said gently, turning his head to gaze with clear eyes out the open window, "whatever you are or aren't feeling at this moment, I'm sure you know as I do that you can always trust me." His gaze slipped sideways and he smirked a little. "Ne, Raito-kun?"

"Aa," Light replied immediately, reassured by the other's words and expression. That's right; he trusted Elijah more than anyone. He didn't need to worry about taking this step into the abyss of the unknown. Elijah would be there waiting for him to take his hand and guide him until Light could walk on his own once more. And even then, Elijah would still be there, walking beside him for as long as Light wished him to be. Never before had Light felt such an immense amount of trust as he did when he looked at his best friend's face at this critical moment. It truly was a wonderful and liberating feeling.

Smiling serenely, Light lifted the final Death Note from his lap into the air and said, "Please take care of me, Eraisho-san."

He flicked his thumb, producing a small flare of fire, and lowered one corner of the Death Note into its reach.

The headache started immediately. A warning, he supposed, a chance to stop the flames before the book was entirely destroyed. Light ignored it, but he dropped the book into the container right away rather than try to hold it for any length of time. Slowly, steadily, the pain increased, slicing through his brain with fiery fingers nearly identical to the ones that devoured the black book in front of him. Light could feel the sweat begin to bead on his forehead and the back of his neck. Fighting the natural beginnings of panic, he steeled his resolve and focused on his breathing instead. When the fire finally reached the white lettering on the cover, he slipped from his desk chair to the floor. He had the sneaking suspicion that he was about to faint, and he figured it would hurt less if he didn't have as far to fall.

"Light?" Elijah's concerned voice filtered through the pain that burned behind his eyes. "Are you all right?"

Light didn't answer. He had clenched his teeth to prevent himself from accidentally biting his tongue. A moment later, Elijah was on the floor with him, one hand lightly gripping Light's shoulder, steadying him. Even though his head was throbbing with a pounding pain unlike anything he had ever experienced, Light had kept his gaze fixed on the burning notebook. It was a point of pride for him, his very last challenge, to watch the destruction of his madness until the very end. But when he felt Elijah's soft touch on his shoulder, he instantly broke his staring match with the flames to meet his friend's worried gaze instead. For some reason, the blue of the older man's eyes cooled the fire within him slightly, soothing the pain just enough that he was able to give Elijah a small triumphant smile.

Elijah's gentle return smile was the last thing Light saw before the pain dragged him down into darkness.

xXx

After guiding Light's limp body gently to the floor, Elijah turned and managed to see the last few flickers of fire before it completely consumed its fuel and burned itself out. All that remained of the weapons that had claimed countless lives was a pile of gray ash.

Elijah sighed and turned back to his unconscious friend. "It's done, Light," he whispered to the pinched face. "It's over now."

Rising to his feet, he shifted his attention to the evidence of the burning. It would have to be removed before Light woke up. Elijah knew he was going to have a hard enough time explaining to Light why the younger man had passed out in his room without having to deal with the question of what had been burned and why. He would have to move quickly since he didn't know how long Light would be out.

He had only taken one step, however, when his whole body ignited.

Elijah threw his head back and bit down a cry of surprise and pain as something hot and sharp vibrated through him. It gripped his entire body, threading through every inch of him. He could feel each individual artery, each capillary, as the heat shot through his bloodstream. Weaving through his brain, branching out into each finger and toe, coursing strongly down his back and across his chest. And yet, far worse, as the hot shocks passed through, they left an icy emptiness behind. A cold ingrained knowledge of the mortality of flesh. An unavoidable truth: this body will one day die.

For one terrible moment, Elijah was consumed by the inevitability of death. The next moment, it was over. His natural mental shutters had kicked in, leaving him panting and sweating as if he had just run a mile but thankfully once again blinded to the reality of mortality. He had very little time to recover, however, for only a few seconds had passed before a new sensation gripped him, this one of pressure from an extremely large and powerful being.

"_Congratulations_," a voice he knew well whispered through his mind. "_Enjoy your new life. I wish you well_."

The pressure began to ease as his soul monitor began to move away, but Elijah had been prepared for this moment. He had not expected to be so shaken and winded, but what he had just experienced had done nothing to lessen his resolve.

"Wait," he croaked, voice cracking from the strain his body had recently suffered. "Don't leave yet. _Wait!_"

The retreating presence paused, and a moment later, Elijah heard the voice in his head once more. "_What is it?_"

He quickly swallowed a few times to fix his voice and took a short breath before stating, "I wish to argue for Light's soul."

For a moment, his monitor did nothing; then the pressure returned, making Elijah bow his head a little from the strength of it.

"_What do you mean?_"

"The bearer of a Death Note cannot go to Heaven or Hell," Elijah explained. "I wish to submit a request that this rule be discarded in Light's case, and I am prepared to fight until my request is accepted."

A small sigh ghosted through his mind, and he felt the pressure shift as if his monitor were settling in for a long discussion. "_I am afraid your request cannot even be considered_," the response came. "_The reason why the soul does not go to Heaven or Hell is because it goes to the Shinigami instead. After death, a soul that has been touched by a Death Note is reborn as a new Shinigami. It retains no memory of its life as a human and lives in subservience to the Shinigami King for as long as that being decrees. That was the deal made between Heaven and the Shinigami world many millennia ago. It is not something that can be discarded simply because you ask for it._"

Quickly, Elijah processed this new information. If anything, it made him even more determined to win Light's soul back from its predetermined fate. The thought of his strong-willed, intelligent friend being a slave to the Shinigami King, memories or no, made him sick to his stomach. "Yet Heaven can go against that agreement," he argued, "because Heaven has power over the Shinigami realm. The fact that you have cameras there, secretly I might add, asserts your dominance over them."

Out of nowhere, the pressure that was bearing down on Elijah's shoulders increased to the point where his back bowed and he could no longer raise his head. For a moment, he felt alarmed that he had angered his monitor, but then he realized that the feel of the presence around him had changed. He could still feel the aura that he knew as his own monitor, but there was also a different aura surrounding him now, one that radiated curious interest. He realized with a sudden shock that a second high-ranking soul had arrived to watch.

"_While it is true that Heaven has power over the Shinigami_," his own monitor was continuing, "_exercising it would put considerable strain on our relations which, as you might expect, are already not in the best shape. We are not willing to do that for a single soul, much less for Kira._"

"And what about me?" Elijah immediately shot back. "I am the first soul to ever live out its full year _and_ I eliminated Kira for you."

"_Both of which you have been rewarded for, Elijah McCormick._"

"I disagree. After my first year, I was given a mission, not a reward. A mission which Heaven wanted done but which, because of its current policy, was unable to do itself. From that standpoint, _you_ were the ones who were rewarded by me successfully making it through a year, not me. And while I was given a payment for completing your request, I finished it in half the time allotted, for which I should be given special consideration."

The pressure suddenly doubled, driving Elijah to his knees. He felt his face and back begin to sweat again, and his arms shook slightly as they braced his upper body against the floor. More spectators had arrived. While Elijah was heartened by the obvious fact that he was making a spectacle large enough to make others take notice, he didn't think his body would be able to handle much more.

"_It is January_," his monitor argued, apparently unaware of his plight.

"But the deaths stopped in October!" Elijah gasped out, tasting the sweat as it beaded on his upper lip. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it? With the Notes gone, Light can't change his mind and no one else can pick them up and use them, but what you really wanted was to stop people dying before their time. And that happened in October, six months after I was given my mission!"

Somewhere within his mind, something began to rustle faintly. At first, he thought it was simply an effect of the strain on his physical body, but after a moment, Elijah realized it was the other souls. They were whispering amongst themselves.

Encouraged, he continued, "There has never been another soul like me before in the history of Heaven. Similarly, has there ever been a soul like Light? No other Death Note user has tried to use its power to bring good to the world. He strayed, yes, he strayed terribly, but originally, he wanted to use it to help other people. How many users did that? How many were so dedicated, so ambitious, and so intelligent that it made Heaven sit up and take notice? And how many other users have given up their Notes, not out of a fear of their actions or of being caught, but out of a desire to help someone else?"

His arms were aching from holding himself upright and sweat was trickling down his face and neck, but Elijah fought to keep going. After several gasping breaths, he gathered up all his remaining strength and finished, "I know that Light still believed that the Death Note was not entirely useless, that he could still do good if he kept it. But he destroyed it with his own hands because he wanted to save me and because he knew that by taking this road, he could do so much more. Are you saying that worsening an already bad relationship is more important than two souls the likes of which have never been seen since the birth of humanity itself?!"

His elbows buckled and Elijah fell forward as the pressure increased even more. Somehow, he managed to keep his head from hitting the floor, but he couldn't stop the cry of pain that escaped him. His panic instincts were beginning to trigger, and he fought to keep them at bay and to keep his mind clear. He still needed to be able to think and reason even if his body felt as if it were slowly being crushed.

The voice of his monitor filtered into his mind through the haze that the adrenaline was beginning to create. "_Do you realize what you are suggesting for him? His sins are too numerous to count. If we keep his soul from the Shinigami, it will only be to send him to Hell. Is that what you want for him?_"

"I realize that," he choked out, each lungful of air a struggle to obtain, "but he has a lifetime to atone. He wants to do so much good for the world. If he accomplishes even half of his goals, surely that will count for something. Enough to place him in Purgatory instead of Hell." Somehow, even as he fought and suffered, Elijah managed a small smirk as he said, "And the Christians are always saying that God is merciful and forgiving. Are they wrong?"

"_He has lost the memories of his sins. It will be easy for him to lose focus and stray._"

"He has me!" Elijah cried, his shout of anger turning into a semi-squeak from lack of air. "I will keep him focused. Because of him, I have a second life and I will use it to make sure that we both go to the same place when we die."

The pressure bearing down on him decreased slightly, enough to allow him to breathe again but not enough that he could lift himself from his bowed position on the floor. As he gasped in much-needed oxygen, he faintly heard a voice whisper in an impressed and mildly fond tone, "_You have a second life due to your own merits, soul once known as L Lawliet._"

In the silence that followed, broken only by the slight rustling of the high-level souls whispering together, Elijah managed to move his head just enough to be able to see Light's face through the damp curtain of his sweat-soaked bangs. The pain had left his best friend's expression, and for the moment, the young man appeared to be peacefully sleeping. Elijah's heart smiled even if his face could not. Slowly and with great effort, the older man inched one of his hands closer to the younger's, and finally, after about five minutes of constant struggle, their fingers gently brushed against each other. Satisfied, Elijah dropped his forehead onto the floor, closed his eyes, and waited.

Eventually, the pressure that had hindered his breathing returned, although this time his own monitor seemed to notice his difficulty. "_All of you back up!_" the soul ordered sternly. "_Or better yet, get out of here. He is my business; you have your own to attend to._" Almost instantly, over half of the weight that kept him down evaporated. At least one soul remained with his monitor, but Elijah was too relieved to care that he had not been released entirely. Now that he could move without having to fight for every inch, he grasped Light's limp hand fully, but he kept his body bowed and his head on the floor. Too much of his strength had drained to move further yet.

In his head, two voices exchanged a few brief words in a language he didn't understand. Then, the second presence was gone and only his monitor remained. "_Your request and arguments have been relayed to The Father. No decision has been made as of yet. However, soul known as Elijah McCormick, be heartened by the fact that it is being considered at all. Know that this day you have gained several advocates to your cause who will argue your side during the debates that are sure to follow._" A slight pause followed in which Elijah felt a warmth travel through his tired muscles like the caress of a caring hand. When his monitor spoke again, the fondness had returned. "_Know also_," the voice said, "_that I am among them. I am glad to have met you, Elijah McCormick, formerly L Lawliet. A long and happy life to you and to those you love._"

The presence and the pressure vanished. Elijah crumpled from the relief, fighting to retain the consciousness that threatened to slip away at any moment. But even as his world faded in and out of blackness, he never once lost the joyful smile on his face or loosened the grip he had on his best friend's hand.

xXx

Light woke slowly and painfully, fighting for every inch of clarity. His head hurt as if someone had strung him up upside-down and used him for a piñata. Every nerve ending in his brain seemed to flare in protest of something, although what it was he didn't know. Whenever he tried to think of what could have happened to cause this pain, his memory failed him. It didn't matter how many times he tried to remember; he kept coming up blank.

"Light?" a quiet voice asked directly above him as cool fingers gently touched his aching forehead. "Are you awake?"

Stifling a groan, he cracked open one eye and blearily took in a concerned blue gaze set in a pale, slightly-freckled face. For a single frightening moment, his mind remained blank, but then, thankfully, his brain finally kick-started itself into some semblance of functionality.

"Elijah," he said, his voice hoarse and scratchy. "What the hell happened to me?"

His friend smiled and returned his hands to his own lap as he perched on the bed where Light lay. "You weren't feeling well after lunch," the older man answered easily, "so I suggested we come back here so you could rest. You fell asleep and have been out for quite some time. Do you feel better?"

"No," Light half-growled. "I feel terrible." He clutched his head with one hand as Elijah's words bounced around inside of it. Now that he had been reminded, he could remember eating lunch with his best friend. He remembered the restaurant and even what he had ordered, but he couldn't remember feeling sick or coming back to his room to lie down. And for some reason that he didn't understand, his instinct was telling him that Elijah had just lied to him. That the particular answer he had just received had been rehearsed. But that didn't make sense. Why would Elijah lie to him?

The bed dipped as Elijah slipped off of it and moved towards Light's dresser. Watching him go, Light suddenly noticed something else amiss.

"'Lij, why is my window open?"

"Ah, I thought that some fresh air would be beneficial," the other answered without turning around.

Again, something prickled at the back of Light's mind as if to say that Elijah's answer had been predetermined. Or perhaps Light was merely experiencing déjà vu? Shaking off the unsettling sensation, Light snapped, "It's _January_, 'Lij. It's freezing outside. Shut it now."

"Of course." A moment later the window was shut and Elijah was standing in front of him with a couple of pills in his outstretched hand. "For your head," he explained when Light stared at them. "You were holding it as if in pain, so I thought you might appreciate some medication."

"Oh. Thanks." Head protesting the movement, Light sat up and took the medicine from Elijah's hand, but before he could swallow them dry, he paused. The other man had slipped his empty hands in his pockets, and now he stood there, feet bare, shoulders slightly hunched, gazing at Light from behind messy blond bangs. The sight had frozen the brunet solid, and he could only sit there and gape at the figure before him.

"Light?" Elijah questioned after a moment, cocking his head to one side.

The movement sent an unexplained shock of sadness through Light's chest; he shook his head to get rid of it, not caring about the pain the action caused. "Sorry," he apologized weakly. "I just …" He stopped himself and swallowed a few times to regain his proper voice. "I told you, didn't I?" he finally asked with eyes averted. "That you remind me of a friend I used to have."

"Ah, yes," Elijah answered, his tone suddenly soft and full of understanding. "A friend of yours who is now dead. I believe his name was … Ryuzaki?"

"That's right." For some reason, Light couldn't seem to bring up a clear memory of meeting Ryuzaki or of the man's death, but some aspects of his old friend remained perfectly clear. His habits and his strange appearance and Light's overwhelming respect for him even as the panda-faced eccentric drove him completely up the wall. Elijah physically looked so very much like Ryuzaki that it had momentarily stunned Light and sent him hurtling back into old emotions and slightly-hazy memories.

Yet, when Light looked again, he could easily see the differences between the two men, apart from the obvious hair and eye color. Elijah may have been standing in his room with bare feet, but the blond's shoes and -- more importantly -- socks sat by the door ready to be put on when he wanted to leave. And while Elijah's stance was indeed slumped, it wasn't nearly as bowed as Ryuzaki's had been. His best friend's sweater was a hunter green, not white, and Light knew that the body beneath that baggy shirt was healthy-looking, not rib-baring skinny.

The most important difference, however, was that smile that rested upon Elijah's lips as the older man looked at him. Ryuzaki had never, in all the time Light had known him, worn such an open, friendly smile as that one. He and Ryuzaki had been friends, but they had never trusted each other, never truly cared for one another the way he and Elijah did. Searching what remaining memories he had of the man, Light came to the conclusion that Ryuzaki hadn't known how to care for someone else, and, if he were being honest with himself, he would have to admit that until he met Elijah, he hadn't known how either.

"You look a lot like him," Light said, breaking out into a grin, "but you aren't him. Not by a long shot."

Elijah grinned back. "I'm glad to hear that," he stated. "While I have heard many good things from you about your old friend, I am very happy being who I am. I do not wish to change."

"Good," Light laughed. "I don't want you to change either." Ryuzaki had been a good friend, and Light would never forget him completely. But Elijah was his best friend, the best he had ever had, and he had no doubt in his mind that it would stay that way for the rest of his life.

Still smiling, Light swallowed the pills in his hand, lay back on the bed, and waited for the pain in his head to subside. It bothered him a little that he still couldn't seem to access all of his memories of the past few years, that he was still occasionally getting twinges of déjà vu or little prods from his instincts telling him that something was off, but for now he would just rest and try to ignore it. Whatever happened tomorrow would happen, and he would deal with it as it came.

After all, he was Light Yagami -- brilliant, confident, efficient Light Yagami -- and the future was his for the taking. With his family to support him and his friends to challenge him and push him forward, his success was absolutely assured.

_I'll make my mark on the world yet,_ he thought to himself as he shut his eyes and relaxed into the mattress. _I'll leave this world a better place than it was when I found it. I'm not sure exactly how I'm going to do it, but I'm going to do it._

_Just wait and see._

End

* * *


	26. Epilogue

**Risks and Rewards **

**Description**: Elijah has a new year and a new mission, but this time Light won't be so cooperative. Let the battle of ideology begin.

**Disclaimer**: _Death Note_ is still not mine. Go figure.

* * *

**Epilogue**

'Lij,

Thought I'd drop you a quick note to let you know I got back home to Japan safely. I'm going to be busy for a while tying up loose ends around here. I swear, sometimes it feels like this whole place will fall apart without me here to keep it together. Arrogant of me, I know, but it's how I feel right now.

Sayu sends her love.

-- Light

xXx

E --

Roger informed me of your new location and the change in your situation. I am glad to hear that you do not wish for your position back. I would not have given it up anyway.

I will commence the hunt for M and inform you of any progress. I will also investigate the subject you recommended and take actions that I deem appropriate.

-- N

P.S. Welcome back.

xXx

'Lij,

You're not going to believe this. After all this time, we were finally contacted by the people who used to work for L. They're headed by this guy who calls himself N. What is it with these people and letters? Anyway, they want their building back and everything in it as well. That pissed me off until N said that he is interested in setting me up as a private investigator as well. They won't let me have the title of L anymore, but he offered me Deneuve or Coil. I accepted the offer for help but rejected the names. If I'm going to build myself up as competition for the best detective in the world, I want to do it under my own alias, not under one of L's discarded ones. N seems to agree since he isn't going to take the L name either. They're going to make an announcement soon saying that L has decided to retire. I completely understand why they don't want to tell the world that he's dead, but even so, I can't help but feel a little sad about the whole thing. Even I don't fully understand why.

Give my love to Lily. You are still treating her well, I hope. Have you kissed her yet? Properly? Don't make me sic Charlie on you.

-- Light

P.S. I'm thinking of Tsuki Asahi for an alias. What do you think?

xXx

E --

Contact with Yagami successful. I will have Roger put aside one-third of your inheritance for him and another third for M when he is found. Nothing definite to report yet on that matter.

-- N

xXx

'Lij,

Remember that lawyer I told you about a while back? Mikami? I had lunch with him today. He's … bizarre. But very intelligent. Talking with him got me thinking about who I want for my team when N sets me up. I know I don't want the same investigation team that we had before. I wouldn't mind working with my dad, but it would be purely for emotional reasons to include him. I think it's best to let them go back to their lives and build a new team from the ground up.

If I do that, would you be willing to be a part of it? You're the first person I'd want on any team of mine, 'Lij. Hell, if it came down to it, I bet you and I together could solve any crime in the world just by ourselves. Let me know, all right? I'm not sure where I'd be based, but it'll be either in America on the east coast or here in Japan. N said he wants Europe and that the third guy, if he's found, will probably want the American west coast.

Oh, and why didn't you tell me you and Charlie were learning Japanese together? She tried talking to me in it last night when I called her. I laughed at her accent, though, so now I'm afraid to see her again. Promise you'll be there when I do, and bring lots of bandages.

-- Light

xXx

E --

M located. He did not believe me when I told him of your continued existence. Expect communication from him shortly.

-- N

xXx

You fucking bastard! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING STILL ALIVE??? I mourned you for a whole five minutes, you asshole.

This is such bullshit. I'm coming over there to make sure it's really you. And don't try to run. I'm not the innocent kid you remember anymore.

-- M

xXx

E --

M intercepted and detained. Please contact me to schedule a video conference.

-- N

xXx

Yo, Fearless Leader! Welcome back.

Signed, Matt

P.S. Mello's really happy you're back. He just doesn't want you to know about it. Don't tell him I told you.

xXx

'Lij,

I got my first case on Tuesday. Had it solved by lunchtime on Wednesday. N says that the first few will be easy until I can build up my reputation.

On a less cheerful note, one of my ex-girlfriends died last night. I probably wouldn't have found out about it except that, since she's a model and an aspiring actress, it made the paper. She died in her sleep, and so far no one can find a reason for it other than natural causes. I have to admit, her death hit me hard. Not because I cared for her particularly much -- I still can't figure out why I dated her in the first place -- but because she was so young. To think that someone my own age could just go to sleep one night and not wake up again, it's kind of frightening. Suffice to say, I've been feeling sort of depressed since this morning.

Hopefully things are better over on your end. Did you tell your parents that you're going to come work for me? What did they say?

-- Light

xXx

E --

Please find attached the information regarding the sale of the property you constructed in Japan. As you requested, the funds received will be split into accounts for each of the children currently residing at Wammy's. I will send copies of the appropriate information on each when I obtain them.

-- N

xXx

Hey.

Thanks for the cash. Near said it was a third of your "inheritance" or some such shit. I'm surprised he let me have my share. Anyway, Matt and I are going to use it to set up shop in CA.

Near told me about this Yagami guy and his kindergarten "let's all work together" idea. Can't say I'm happy about cooperating with either the shrimp or your new boytoy, but I'll think about it.

Later.

-- M

xXx

'Lij,

Worked through a couple more cases this week. They really have been pathetically easy, but N admitted the last time I talked to him that he's been shoving the ones he doesn't want onto me. At least they pay well. I should have enough soon for some decent equipment. I also need to decide where I want to build something more permanent. Mikami and I are here as is my family, but you and Charlie and everyone else I care about are over there. Since Mikami doesn't have any family, I'm starting to think about building something smaller over here and then making a larger headquarters over by you. I still need to think about it, though, and I don't have quite enough money to do it yet anyway.

I'm also starting to accept the fact that I'll need a liaison at some point. I'm not as paranoid as L was (and as N seems to be), but I still understand the benefit of anonymity. Do you think -- and this is just a spur of the moment idea, I haven't thought it through completely yet -- that the girls would be interested? Either one on her own is unacceptable, but they each balance the other out in such a way that they would be quite effective as a team. I'm not sure they'd be interested though.

I have a lot of things to think about, don't I? Well, I'll get by somehow. Of course, any opinions you have on any of these matters would be welcome.

-- Light

xXx

Yo, FL!

Do you have any idea how easy it is to hack into your piece of shit machine? I was bored so I thought I'd try it. Took me five seconds, dude. Seriously. All I did was read your email, but I could have done, like, anything I wanted to it. You need to upgrade your anti-spyware. I'll send over mine. It's customized, of course, so it'll do the job right.

BTW, you have a girlfriend? For real? Jesus, if Mello finds out about it, he's gonna freak. He's already all jealous and shit over this Yagami guy. How about this: you pay for Mello's chocolate for a month and I won't tell him about your chick. Deal?

Signed, Matt

P.S. You fucked her yet? I want details, man!

xXx

E --

M's funds frozen as requested.

-- N

xXx

Dude, that was cruel. Mello's super pissed at me now since Near said it was MY fault the money's been cut off. Fine, I'll keep your stupid secret. And fine, I apologize for being crass. Now tell Near to give us our money back or Mello's gonna kill me.

Signed, Matt

xXx

E --

M's funds reestablished. Also, please find attached the information for the Wammy children accounts.

I have been communicating with Yagami regularly and find him to be acceptable. Should either he or you wish to join forces with me in the future, I will be happy to assist.

-- N

xXx

'Lij,

Three more cases down, and the last one wasn't one of N's cast-offs. The client actually requested me! It looks like my name is finally getting around. N said he'll field requests for me for a bit, but I need to get myself finalized soon.

Before I do that, though, I'm coming to visit. I can't take it anymore. I miss you all too much. I'll send you the details later, but I'll be there next week. Don't tell Charlie that I'm coming. I know it's kind of suicidal of me, but I want to surprise her.

-- Light

xXx

Feeling a bit tired, Elijah closed down his email and put his computer into sleep mode. A quick glance at the clock revealed that he had a little over fifteen minutes before he and his mother would have to leave for the airport to pick up Light. Afterwards, they would drive to the ice cream parlor where an unsuspecting Charlie and Lily would be waiting. The reunion to come would certainly be memorable. He would have to remember to ask his mother to stop off at a drugstore beforehand for first aid supplies.

A few minutes later, just before he left the room to go downstairs, Elijah paused at the door and glanced over at his window as if to check something. Satisfied by what he saw, he smiled, turned out the overhead light, and left his room, shutting the door behind him.

Left behind, a basket of three dozen apples sat on the floor beneath the window and waited.

* * *

A/N: **Thank you** to all my readers who stuck with me this far. I realize I made it hard for everyone with such long stretches between updates. I truly appreciate all of your continued support.

Thanks in particular to my reviewers:

ActionFry -- aisling13 -- allaboutcontests -- Anon -- Aoidragon -- AsterGray -- BlueRyuu -- broken-and-beautiful77 -- Bronze Eagle -- Canderjack -- Ceirwy -- Chester Sellars -- Chucky1982 -- Cookie Ninja Girl -- DarkAmber112 -- Darkspine Shadow -- demented_hinkypunk -- Draconic-Master -- Draculina17 -- Dragonrider99 -- Elaienar -- EnvyChan -- EscapingxXxReality -- fantasies4eva -- Fantasy93 -- Fast -- Ferret Love -- FlyingWyvern -- Furvacatta -- Gepetto -- HerVictory -- heya-gurl -- hollowFAERIE -- Houtori -- hullabalooh -- ImperialJedi -- JayleeJ -- JediMasterWithAPen -- judikickshiney -- Just Akiko -- Kaito Aozora -- kasai tenshi -- Kat -- Katnoelle -- Kiseki no Tenshi -- kitsune -- kitsunechibiko -- kiwigreen -- kori hime -- L'OpalNoir -- Larissa-chan -- lazy*sourbum -- Legatos -- lorei -- love lawliet -- Lurel -- May a.k.a. Shin's voice -- Minikimii -- MoonlightShadowLovesQow -- Namesake -- nazgurl -- Nightwing Gurl -- Niilan -- Nubial Sheep -- ochibi-chwan -- Opacus -- perfidiouspink -- phoenixral -- Pluto -- rain angst -- randomismyname -- recipe for insanity -- rianu -- Rozell -- sarah -- Shadowsole -- Shinimegami7 -- skogen -- Skyaze -- Skyhe -- Sora Fx -- Spotofpaint -- Stella -- Steven P.P -- Strawberry Choclate Cake -- The Lost and Found Box -- The Sleeping Creature -- thexamimi -- Viskii -- Voldanita -- WESTMAN AND L -- WithABunny -- xXDeidara-chanXx -- xxlostdreamerxz -- Yei -- yoahn -- Your Kidney -- YurimiLawliet -- Zedin

With this, I am done with the _Death Note _fandom for a while. I'll probably be back eventually, but not for a long time. My brain needs to recover. If you want to know where I've gone, look for me first in the _Kingdom Hearts_ area. I practically live there these days. At some point, I'll pop up in the _Gravitation _fandom and might possibly even do something for _Bleach_, but _KH_ is your best bet.

Again, many thanks and much love to you all.

-- Karai


End file.
